State Of Grace
by JackieOh
Summary: Cynical, sarcastic, and angsty; Vanessa McCall is your average teenage child of divorce. With a love for CW television shows and Clueless, she hopes she can use her popculture obsession to her advantage when her twin is suddenly thrust into wolf-hood. With Stiles by Vanessa's side (her BFF and longtime crush) she navigates through this new, crazy world. VERY SLIGHT AU, STILES/OC
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I awoke to the sound of screaming. Not just any screaming, but the familiar screams of my twin brother and best friend. Disoriented but concerned I grab the baseball bat I had stored under my bed the day Dad left (just in case, you know) and stumble down the McCall house's stairs toward the opened front door.

"Scott stop!" I shout while letting my bat clang to the floor, shocked by the sight before me. After a pause I rush towards my swinging twin in a panic. "It's Stiles!" I exclaim while tugging on his arm.

"Stiles?" Scott questions stupidly while halting his attempted assault.

The boy in question, who is hanging from our roof in a way that strongly resembles a bat, nods enthusiastically with a wild look in his iced-coffee brown eyes. "Yes you idiot! Who else would it be? And what's up with the bats? Do any of you even _play_ baseball?"

"Not the point, Stilinski," I scowl as he falls somewhat gracefully onto our front porch. "What are you _doing_here?" I love Stiles, really I do, but being woken up to screaming at 11:47 the day before my first day of Sophomore year is in no way pleasurable.

"It's nearly midnight!" Scott chimes in while placing his bat into our umbrella stand beside the front door.

"My dad got a call from the station," Stiles says with a manic smile. "Some hikers found a body in the woods!"

"A dead body?" Scott inquires with alarm.

"No, a body of water. Yes a dead body, you dumbass!" Stiles exclaims; making me laugh despite myself. "Anyway, the whole county is out there looking for it."

"But you just said hikers found the body. Can't they just tell your dad where it is?" I ask with a furrowed brow.

Stiles bounces excitedly on his feet while sticking his hands deep into his jeans' pockets. "That's the best part; they only found half!"


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"I hate you guys," I announce while tripping over a tree to my left's root. I fall into Stiles' back, who quickly turns to steady me but not without a roll of his eyes.

"So we've heard," he jokes while wrapping an arm around my trembling shoulders. I lean into Stiles' warmth and ignore the affect being so close to him has on my already fluttering heart. I'd been pushing against my crush on the Adderall addicted teen since eighth grade but so far it hadn't gotten any easier. "Besides, you're the one always complaining how nothing exciting happens around here."

I ignore Stiles and turn to my wheezing brother with concern. "You okay, Scotty?" I ask softly while guiding the flashlight in Stiles' right hand to point to my twin.

"Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, yeah?" Scott questions while leaning against the tree that had just tripped me.

I stop walking, making Stiles stop as well, and watch my twin take a few puffs of his inhaler with pursed lips. I knew coming out here wasn't a good idea…

"Quit worrying," Stiles orders me before tossing Scott the flashlight underhandedly.

"If something happens to him, I'm kicking your ass Stilinski," I respond as Scott takes the lead; Stiles and I trailing behind.

Before he can reply my brother cuts in with a question, "So, which half of the body are we looking for?"

I look up to the boy on my left in intrigue; wanting to know the answer myself. His face pulls into one of concentration: lips pouted, brow furrowed, and eyes narrowed, and I try to ignore the instinctual gushing over his cuteness my feminine side is spewing so I can listen to his answer.

"Didn't think of that," Stiles replies finally after a brief pause.

"And what if whatever killed that girl is still out there?" Scott presses with a tremble in his voice. I swallow thickly; already knowing the answer.

"Didn't think about that either."

I immediately pick up speed and let his arm fall off my shoulders with a sneer on my face. "So basically you've lead us to our deaths," I snap while turning around to glare at my buzzed-cut friend. "Glad to know you paid your usual attention to detail." I **knew** coming out here wasn't a good idea!

I watch as Stiles bristles and scowls, which makes me internally cringe, but I just hold his gaze with a glare of my own. He opens his mouth to defend himself but after a quick glance over my shoulder he hits the deck with an exclamation of, "Shit! Get down!"

I don't have time to question the strange teen because my brother catches me by my waist and pulls us both behind the shelter of a large tree trunk. My eyes widen and my mind immediately jumps to the worst case scenario as I look up to Scott questioningly. Are we seriously hiding out while some murderer-? My worries soothe at the sound of dogs barking and Sheriff Stilinski's voice, because I know Stiles is safe and that he isn't being killed by some psychopath who gets a kick out of cutting people in half. As irritated as I am at the idiot I don't want him dead.

I tense when the sheriff questions Stiles about me and Scott. "And where are your two partners in crime?"

"Who? Oh, Scott and Nessa? They didn't want to come; something about a good night's sleep before the first day of school."

My eyebrows rise with surprise at Stiles' believable lie. Usually he rambles before just blurting out the truth. I'd have to thank him once I was done being angry at his stupidity. Scott and I tense when the sheriff calls our names to make sure we're really at home, which we aren't, but being as we don't answer Stiles' dad pulls his son away by the scruff of his collar lecturing about "invasion of privacy".

My twin and I stand in still silence for a moment before releasing a breath in unison. My relief fades however, when I realize Scott and I are now stranded, in the woods, about three miles from home. Dammit I _**knew **_this was a bad idea!

"Maybe he'll wait for us?" Scott suggests hopefully as we turn our heels and head back towards the road.

"The sheriff will see him off," I sigh. "And he'll probably call their house phone just to make sure Stiles actually went there."

We walk in silence for a few moments before Scott, ever the optimist, rattles the battery-powered cylinder in his hand and says, "Well at least we have the flashlight!" I can't help but burst into a fit of laughter as its light flickers instantly before dying out; as if Scott's words had dared it to do so.

"Good job," I chuckle while stumbling down the steepening hill. I'm not exactly good at… walking. Well, I do alright on flat and clear surfaces but an autumn's forest floor covered in leaves isn't exactly ideal for the clumsy.

"Shh!" Scott cuts in sharply while looking out into the blackness in front of us. "Nessa, did you hear that?"

I eye my twin strangely for a moment. "Uh, no?" I question unsurely as my stomach grows heavy with dread.

The next thing I know I'm on my back with a pounding echoing throughout my head, and hearing my brother yell with fright. I look to him with blurred vision only to see a black mass running away as quickly as it came. I faint just as howling fills the air.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Stiles I can't get her to wake up! Do you think she got a concussion when she hit her head last night? Oh my god, don't say that! Vanessa!? Vanessa you better not have slipped into a coma! Stiles she isn't-!"

I let out a loud groan and slap my frantic brother's right hand away. The shaking is doing nothing for my migraine, not to mention his yelling. "Go away, Scott," I order while clenching my eyes together tightly. Even behind my eyelids the sunlight is too bright. I feel extremely hung over, which is weird being as I don't remember drinking last night.

"She's awake," I hear my twin sigh with relief as the bed to my left sinks from his added weight. "Thank God. I don't know Stiles- hold on! Vanessa are you okay?"

"My head," I groan while bringing my palms up to my temples and pushing forcefully in an attempt to rid myself of the horrible ache there.

"Do you want to go to the hospital and-shut _up_ Stiles!"

"What I want is some aspirin, water, and for you to stop shouting," I list before ducking under my covers. The relief I feel in the total darkness makes my shoulders sag but the pounding of my head stops me from falling back asleep like I usually do on Monday mornings.

Oh shit- school!

I'm up and over to my closet so quickly that the world turns on its axis for a moment and I find myself stumbling a few steps back. Scott steadies me while continuing his phone conversation with Stiles.

"Oh my god, Stiles she almost just fainted! Do you think I should take her to the hospital?"

"No hospitals!" I shout while diving into my closet once more. I rummage through the mass of blazers and dresses and pants and shirts before pulling something comfortable but nice together, and bending down to grab a matching pair of shoes. As I leant forward I was hit with another wave of dizziness and found myself falling once more only to be caught by Scott for a second time.

"Vanessa there is something seriously-!"

"Scott, we have school and you need to be there if you're making first line this year!" I interrupt my twin with a determined scowl. "Now hang up on Stiles because I'm fine- don't give me that look; I _am_- and get ready because we're leaving in twenty minutes."

Scott and I glare at each other for a moment before he relents with a sigh and backs up out of my room. "Meet us by the bike rack. I'll call you if anything happens," I hear him inform Stiles while shutting my bedroom door behind him.

I roll my eyes and dress myself; happy that I had packed my school tote yesterday with the premonition I would be running late this morning. After pulling on my jewelry I enter the bathroom I share with Mom to go through my daily skincare routine, brush my teeth, and do all of the usual morning rituals one does in bathrooms.

My hair looked windswept and voluminous from the rough night I could now remember happened, and I let out a soft gasp while running my fingers through my roots. I found scabbing at the nape of my neck, but since I didn't have enough time to shower I dampened a washcloth and patted the tender wound, making myself wince every time, until the caked crimson was gone. After fixing my part and applying a little more concealer to my under-eyes, I decided I looked as nice as I could and exited the bathroom with a sigh.

Scott was still in his bedroom and I could hear Mom's loud snores, so after grabbing my pocket book and cellphone from my desk I descend the stairs and put on my favorite teakettle. I start and end my days with peppermint hot chocolates; no exceptions. It was something me and my dad would do together, but even with him gone I didn't want a good tradition to go to waste… even if it was just me now. While I was waiting for the water to boil I even swallowed a couple of Tylenol Extra Strengths in the hopes my throbbing head ache would lessen. By the time my hot chocolate was brewed it still hadn't.

I'd hate to sound like a broken record but dammit I _knew_ last night was a bad idea.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Scott asks as he enters the kitchen with his trademark puppy-dog expression. "We could still-"

"Go to the hospital," I finish flatly while pouring my hot chocolate into my thermos. "Scott, twin, bro, I heard you the first ten times. I promise if I feel like I need to go to the emergency room I _will_."

He sighs and nods. "Okay." Scott and I exit the house before making our way to his pathetic but sturdy bicycle. I take my usual place on its handlebars and ignore the way it groans in protest. "So do you really think I'll make first line this year?" Scott questions as he begins peddling towards the school. My heart leaps into my throat as we turn out of our driveway, but I don't let my fear show.

"You and Stiles have been practicing all summer," I begin with a smile while anxiously tightening my grip on my hot chocolate and peering down at the moving asphalt. "You've both improved tons- I'm not just saying that."

"But do you think I'll make _first line_?" my twin presses as we pick up speed.

I laugh at his impatience but nod. "I have a very good feeling _both_of you will get to play this year," I answer diplomatically while closing my eyes. The cool air feels nice against my face, but I wince when we go over a pothole that sends my head into a throbbing frenzy.

"Well I'm not dumb enough to go against you and your feelings," Scott replies mockingly.

The boys and my mom are convinced I'm some kind of fortune teller because whenever I have a hunch it more often than not comes true. For instance, Mom and Dad purchased a bunny for Christmas eight years ago off of Mr. Fitz as a gift for me. The moment I touched it I started crying and told them Gertrude (Mr. Fitz had named her in my defense) was going to die. She didn't even make it a week after that day. Everyone's just learned to go along with my feelings, and they hadn't been wrong yet.

"How much Adderall do you think he's taken?" I ask Scott while eyeing a pacing Stiles only a few feet ahead.

"He was worried about you," Scott snaps with scolding in his tone.

I bite my bottom lip as we near the seemingly freaked boy and try to push against the butterflies filling my stomach. Gosh, Stiles is so cute when he's worrying about me.

"Oh my God, Vanessa!" Stiles exclaims while lifting me from my brother's handlebars and into a bear hug. "I am _so_ sorry!"

I can feel his heart pounding against both of our chests as I wrap my arms around his neck, which tells me he can feel my heart beating just as fast. I know the reason for my own fluttering vitals but as for his…? My train of thought is thrown completely off of its tracks when Stiles kisses the crown of my head and tightens his grip around my waist.

"I should have never left you guys there. Vee, I am _so_**-**"

"Sorry," I finish softly while letting my eyes flutter closed. "It's alright."

"Aw," the deep voice of my arch-nemesis (I'm not even exaggerating) coos from my right, "the nerds have finally gotten together."

I pull away from Stiles with a warm face and turn to glare at Jackson Whittemore with all of my might. "You're just mad because I get more action than you," I retort; not confirming or denying his inaccurate observation. "Tell me, is Lydia still holding out on you for not watching The Notebook last Tuesday?" Stiles and Scott attempt to muffle their laughter as I watch Jackson's jaw tick with satisfaction. From his apparent anger the answer is clear. "That's a yes, then?" I prompt with a raise of my left brow and smirk.

"He's going to kill you one day," Scott snickers while locking up his bike.

"He can try," I respond dryly as Stiles, similarly to last night, drapes his right arm over my shoulders. I nearly question him about it, but then he would most likely stop which isn't something I want, so I keep my mouth shut.

"So let's see it!" Stiles exclaims while looking to my brother eagerly.

I glance between them in confusion. "See what?"

Stiles' bright eyes meet mine as a giddy smile stretches out his lips. "Scott was bit by an animal last night!"

My face immediately snaps towards my twin's. "What?" I squawk while reaching out and grabbing Scott's right shoulder with my free hand. "Are you alright? You carried me home after being bitten by- wait, was it that wolf that howled?"

"Yeah," Scott nods while lifting his shirt to show Stiles and myself the damage. I gasp at the sight of the sizeable and bloodstained gauze taped to his side. "After it knocked you over it bit me and took off."

"Wait, a wolf?" Stiles cuts in with a look of disbelief. "That can't be right. Wolves haven't been in California in like, forty years."

I chuckle at the random fact but shake my head in defiance. "It was a wolf," I repeat firmly as we make our way towards the school.

"You're insane," Stiles shoots back with a grin aimed down at me. Ah, stupid cuteness! Heart, control yourself!

"Well if you didn't believe that," Scott begins; making us give him our undivided attention once more, "then you'll never believe me when I say I found the body."

"No way!" Stiles refuses with wide eyes. "Are you kidding?"

"I wish," Scott confesses with a shudder. "I'm going to have a lifetime of nightmares."

An ominous feeling fills my stomach as I toy with my thermos, and I silently will the horrible emotion away. Something just doesn't seem right about last night, the wolf, Scott's bite, and that girl's death…


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

My bad feeling took a serious hit on the happiness level of my day; something the boys and my kind-of friend/Jackson's girlfriend Lydia noticed. While the boys asked once and dropped the subject when I deflected, Lydia questioned me relentlessly throughout Advance Placement French, in _French._ It's safe to say my headache was back with vigor by the end of _that_ class.

My spirits improved slightly when I joined Lydia and the new girl Allison to watch lacrosse tryouts after school. Scott had impressed the team, onlookers, and Coach Finstock with his breathtakingly good goalkeeping, which made me beam with pride. Stiles had done very well too, and it appeared that their chances of making first like this year were good.

Allison had questioned me about my twin relentlessly, and blushed when I teased her about the festering crush. Honestly I wished the two the best. Scotty deserves a good girl, and Allison seemed nice enough. I told her this, which made her cheeks redden even further, but practice was over before she could respond and Lydia demanded attention once more.

I slipped away at the opportunity to congratulate the boys; hugging them both before jokingly demanding they shower because of their stench. It wasn't much of a joke though. After showering and changing back into their regular clothes, Scott informed Stiles and me we had to go back to the woods because he had dropped his inhaler in all of the chaos of last night.

"It was so weird," Scott begins while helping me over a small stream. "I had all of the time in the world to catch the ball; like time slowed down or something."

"Well** I** am proud of both of you," I chirp happily while squeezing both Stiles and Scott's hands momentarily. "Really, you guys have gotten so much better!" I pretend not to notice that Stiles doesn't let my hand drop, but instead allow him to lace his fingers through my own. It makes my face flush- I'm sure he can see it- but neither of us make a comment and Scott continues on as if I hadn't spoken.

"It isn't just that, though! Ever since last night I can see and hear and smell things I shouldn't be able to!" Scott exclaims.

I tense as my feeling of dread grows, and silently pray Scott doesn't have an asthma attack while his puffer is nowhere in sight. Stiles tightens his grip on my left hand before loosening it, and face warms once more when I realize it was meant to reassure me.

"Like what?" Stiles questions skeptically.

"Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket," Scott replies with a furrowed brow.

Stiles reaches into his left pocket while rolling his eyes. "I don't have any…" his voice falters when he, sure enough, pulls a half-eaten piece gum from his jeans.

"That doesn't mean anything," I say tersely.

Scott narrows his eyes on me, irritated and desperate for us to believe him. "I can smell your blood too-"

"Wait, what?" Stiles interrupts while coming to a stop. I do too, seeing as our hands are conjoined. "You're bleeding? Where?" He drops my left hand, which feels irrationally cold by the lack of contact, and cups the sides of my face to inspect me for damage.

I'm sure I resemble a tomato as I pull away with embarrassment. Scott's staring at me and Stiles strangely, probably as strangely as I feel, and to blow off the silent question I pull my hair up into a ponytail and turn so the boys can inspect the damage _I_ haven't even gotten to see. From their simultaneous intakes of breath I assume it isn't pretty.

"Hospital," Scott orders in a strangled voice, "now."

I let my hair drop and turn back around to face their slightly pale faces. Okay, so it's definitely less than pretty. "No, _now_ we find your inhaler and discuss whatever weird thing is going on with you. Then you have work so-"

"I'll take you while he's at vet's," Stiles volunteers. "No offense but that looks gruesome."

I grimace but nod before turning to my twin once more; eager to steer the conversation back his way. "Okay, so your nose is suddenly a super sleuth and time is slowing down. Are you sure _you're_ not the one who needs to see a doctor?"

"Yeah," Scott begins with widened eyes. "Oh my God, what if that wolf had an infection or something? What if my body's filling with adrenaline before I go into like, shock? What if I have rabies?"

"You know, I think I've heard about something like this before!" Stiles informs us enthusiastically. From the smile on his face I know it can't be good.

"Really?" I question flatly with a raise of my left brow.

"Yeah; Lycanthropy!" Stiles jokes. I scowl as Scott's face becomes a look of horror.

"Is that serious?" my twin asks with desperation. Oh God, Scotty are you serious?

"Oh yeah, it's awful," Stiles continues. I stomp ahead of the two of them to continue the search for Scott's inhaler and avoid Stiles' prank. He may think it's funny but the fear in my gut is shaking me to the bone. "Only happens once a month; on the full moon." I hear Stiles break out into a fit of howls which are abruptly cut short after a muffled thud. I snicker at his exclamation of pain while kicking around leaves to see if Scott's puffer had been covered by them.

"That isn't funny, Stiles! Something could be seriously wrong with me!" Scott shouts with a touch of hysteria.

I halt my search and turn my heel to look up at my twin brother. "Scotty relax," I order in a soothing tone while placing my hands on his shoulders. "Stiles is just being an idiot."

"Hey!" said idiot cries with indignation, but I pretend as if I hadn't heard him.

"We'll figure out whatever's going on, okay? For now let's just find your inhaler. Mom will have a fit if she has to buy you another new one."

"Yeah," Scott sighs while his shoulders sag in relief. "Thanks Vanessa."

I release him with a wink, "It's what I do."

We continue our walk for a few moments before Scott announces the spot we're currently standing at is where the body was and where he had dropped his inhaler.

"I don't see any dead bodies," Stiles point out as I drop to my knees and scatter some leaves.

"Maybe the killer moved it?" I suggest while crawling forward; my eyes trained on the ground in the hopes of spotting the missing puffer.

"Well I hope he left my inhaler," Scott sighs from behind me. "They cost a fortune."

"Eighty bucks is hardly a fortune," I retort with an exasperated roll of my eyes. "If we can't find it I'll half it with you."

"Ness!" Stiles calls sharply and suddenly; making me jump with fright.

The next thing I know I'm being lifted by my waist and wondering when I suddenly became a ragdoll. Once upright I spot a tall, dark, handsome, and creepy guy glaring at us.

"What are you doing here, huh? This is privet property," the stranger growls as his scowl deepens.

I tense and push harder against Stiles' front; not at all liking the vibes this guy is giving. Stiles, noticing my discomfort, runs his hands up the sides of my ribcage before resting them on my hips once more. I know he feels my shiver and that he felt my muscles squirm beneath his touch, but we stay silent.

"Sorry, we didn't know," Scott apologizes. "We were just looking for something… but forget it."

Just as Scott pivots to leave the man throws the missing inhaler to him, making me look to my twin with wide eyes. I then glance back to the man, only to find him meters away. I step forward and out of Stiles' grip; shaking off his hand when it makes a grab for my wrist.

"Hey!" I call while jogging up to the man, who doesn't stop but does slow his pace some. "Thank you," I say sincerely before tacking on, "and we won't come here anymore. Sorry."

I don't give him an opportunity to answer; I didn't really think he would anyway, because I turn around and make my way back over to the boys who are both wearing angry expressions on their faces.

"Are you crazy?" Scott hisses as we retrace our steps out of the forest.

I square my shoulders and narrow my eyes defiantly up at my brother. "I was thanking him for giving us back your inhaler," I tell him waspishly. "Creepy guy or not that was a nice thing to do."

"Vanessa you were just talking about the killer having my inhaler, and then when some creepy stranger _has_ it you think following after him is a smart thing to do?" Scott questions shrilly while mirroring my stance.

I trip up over a root and my determination falters. "Oh," I reply dumbly. "Well he did say we were on private property. Maybe he had it because it's his backyard," I say logically, although we all know I'm just trying to justify my stupid actions.

"Actually," Stiles pipes up, "the Hale house isn't far from here, so maybe."

"Hale house?" Scott and I echo in unison while turning to face Stiles.

He nods. "Yeah, that was Derek Hale. His family died in a fire like, six years ago. I wonder what he's doing back." Stiles' eyes light up and he bounces excitedly, "Maybe he really is the killer!"

Scott's eyes snap to me once more. "See? More reason for you to stay away from him!"

I just purse my lips and push on; ignoring my brother's overprotective monologue and the fact Stiles and I had just had a sort-of moment but not really.

In case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty good at pretending things don't exist.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"So what's the prognosis, Doc?" I question tiredly with a frown. Stiles had taken me to the ER after dropping Scott off at the vet's, but that had been two hours ago and I'm growing more tired by the minute. The long time period hadn't been the cause of a long wait, Mom had gotten me to see Dr. Hemple as soon as she spotted both Stiles and me, but after cleaning my wound properly they had me go through a whole bunch of tests. Stiles wasn't even allowed in the room, which was a bummer, but I knew he was still planning on driving me home because every few seconds I would see him pace past the door.

Gah, so cute.

"You have a minor concussion," Dr. Hemple informs me with a frown of his own, "and you should have come to us as soon as you hit your head. You're very lucky you didn't slip into a comatose state last night, but I doubt your luck will continue if this ever happens again."

I don't like his disapproving stare so I avoid it by looking down to my swinging feet. "Course of treatment?" I prompt quietly.

"Set an alarm for every hour for the next few days. I'm prescribing a low dose of pain medication for the migraine I'm sure you have, and please try not to hit your head anytime soon."

"Sure thing, Doc," I reply with a sigh as I hop off of the examination table. "See you soon," I wave while exiting the room.

"I hope not," Dr. Hemple replies; making me laugh and shake my head. I'm a usual for Dr. Hemple, but more often than not it's Scott or Stiles' fault. Or at least that's the story I'm sticking to.

Speaking of…

"What's wrong?" Stiles questions as his hands twitch at his sides. Cute…

"Just a concussion," I answer with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders. "I just have to wake myself up every hour and take some pain meds-"

My words are muffled when I'm pulled into a bone crushing hug. "Oh man, this is all my fault. I am so sorry; I swear I am _never_ dragging you into the woods to look for a dead body ever again."

I laugh and pull away so I can look up to my hyperactive friend. "Well here's to hoping no one finds anymore dead bodies in the woods," I say as I begin walking towards the pharmacy.

We pick up my pills and I take one using a nearby water fountain before saying goodbye to my mom. She tells me she's working the grave shift tonight which means I'll be fending for myself, but it isn't really anything new so I don't complain.

Stiles spent the next few days apologizing, which amused Scott but irritated the hell out of me. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy his concern in some sick sort of way, though. Stupid crush.

We don't talk about the handholding back in the forest and we don't talk about the way he keeps draping his arm over my shoulders and we certainly don't talk about the rumor about how we're dating that Jackson spread in an attempt to get back at me for my Lydia comment. I'm okay with that though, because I'm good at not talking about things. I was the strong one when Dad left, I took over the house chores when Mom began working double-shifts just to keep herself functioning and have a decent money flow, and I always told every that I was doing "just fine" because I'm just _good_ at that sort of stuff. Pushing things to the back of my mind or ignoring them completely is my forte, and besides… I'm not sure if I'd want to know the answer if I brought all of this up to Stiles anyway.

What we do however talk about is the sudden aggression Scott has been showing. Irritability and a snappy attitude are really more my things, so when twin started showcasing signs of said traits to all people other than Allison (whom he would be taking to Jackson's party tonight) Stiles and I were pretty shocked.

Tired from the first week of school I opted to sit this party out, despite Lydia's nagging. I was set on watching the Clueless movie and eating my weight in chips, but when Stiles showed up at our house I got the feeling my plans would be put on hold.

"Why are you so twitchy?" I question while inspecting my long-time friend from my spot in our open doorway.

"It's a full moon tonight," Stiles begins while shoving his hands into his jean pockets nervously, "and I know you guys thought I was just joking around in the forest but with the way Scott's been acting-"

"You think he's a werewolf," I finish. We both tense and stare at each other for a moment; not really sure what to say. It made sense, though; it made perfect sense. I'm limited on my werewolf information, but as your typical teenage girl I've read all of the Twilight books (hated everything but the werewolves, ironically enough) and watch The Vampire Diaries religiously. Scott is no Tyler from TVD, but he has had the short fuse of Paul Lahote these past few days. Plus if Stiles Stilinski, expert of all things horror and mythical, believes we have a werewolf on our hands I'd be stupid not to agree.

"Do you believe me?" Stiles asks anxiously while shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Of course I do," I answer without hesitation while silently questioning this boy's intellect. Of course I believe Stiles; he's Stiles for crying out loud.

I watch as his shoulders sag and he gives me this smile that's small and closed-lipped but thoughtful and just… wow. Stupid crush. "Okay, so let's go try and talk your brother out of playing in the game tonight."

"What?" I question as I follow Stiles up the stairs. "Why?"

"Tonight's the full moon," he repeats before jokingly adding, "and I don't have any silver to melt."

I laugh slightly but my hands are shaking with nerves. I'm not sure how Scott's going to handle being told he can't play on first line for the first time in his lacrosse career, and I know he won't believe Stiles as blindly as I have.

My fears are well founded, much to my displeasure.

"You guys are crazy," Scott informs us with a shake of his head.

"Do you know why wolves howl? It's to alert their pack. Yeah, that's right _pack!_ So that wolf howl you heard in the woods means there's more wolves out there! Including you!" Stiles exclaims while throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Scotty it's dangerous for you to play in tonight's game," I plead; hoping I can change his mind since Stiles obviously hadn't. "What if you go all Wolverine on someone tonight? What if you go all Wolverine on _Allison_?" I press on; hoping to reach him in any way I can.

"Don't bring her into this," Scott growls; suddenly furious. My eyes widen as he grabs me by my upper arms and shoves my back against the door. I feel ten sharp _somethings_ pierce my skin and I squirm in my twin's firm hold.

"Scott you're hurting me!" I inform him shrilly while attempting to push my twin away and off of me.

"Get off her, dude!" Stiles shouts while ripping Scott away from me forcefully.

Scott snaps out of his trance with a blink and looks to me with regret. "Oh God, Nessa I'm so-"

"I'm bleeding, you asshole!" I cut him off while eyeing my crescent moon shaped injuries that without a doubt came from Scott's nails. Tears well up in my eyes and I exit the room so I can cry in peace and clean up the fairly deep welts. As I enter the bathroom I realize it hadn't been Scott's nails that had hurt me, but rather Scott's _claws_.

"He's playing in the game," Stiles' voice rings out from the other side of the door a few moments later. "And he's going to the party. We can't change his mind."

I sniffle and dab my cuts with a damp washcloth. "Then we'll just go too," I respond; hoping my voice isn't thick from my tears.

"Are you crying?" Stiles questions with surprise.

"No!" I snap defensively, but it's too late because he's already opened the bathroom door and can see the tearstains on my cheeks and red nose.

"Oh my God you _are_!" he exclaims insensitively; making me hiccup and bite the right corner of my mouth in an attempt to hold my tears back.

"You're such a jerk," I whisper harshly before sniffling and rinsing the blood out of my washcloth.

"Did Scott do that?" Stiles asks while gently lifting my left arm so he can inspect my wounds.

"Unintentionally," I defend.

"Hey," Stiles begins softly while looking deeply into my eyes, "don't worry Ness. We're going to figure this out, okay?"

I nod and attempt to blink away my swimming tears. A few leak out however, and my heart flutters when Stile's brushes them away with the backs of his fingers. "Thanks," I whisper shyly, unsure if this is considered a _moment_ and whether or not I should get my hopes up that it is.

"Kids!" Mom calls from downstairs; making Stiles and me jump with fright. We freeze for a moment; his hand still caressing the right side of my face, and stare at each other with wide eyes before the sound of footsteps on the staircase snap me out of my Stiles-induced trance.

"Shit," I hiss while grabbing for my robe hanging on the doorway. "Stiles hide the bloody washcloth!" I whisper-shout while slipping into my bathrobe.

He grabs it and looks around frantically before tossing the cloth behind the toilet with a _splat_. Gross. I grab his hand and run us into my room across the hall before pushing him back onto my bed and taking a seat at my desk.

"Kids?" Mom calls once more with questioning in her tone.

"In here!" I shout back calmly while wiping my face with the sleeve of my pink robe.

"Hey honey," Mom smiles as she leans casually against my doorway. "Stiles," she nods with a warm smile towards said boy before facing me once more. "Where's your bother?"

"He went to the school early to get in a little extra practice time," I lie smoothly. "He's nervous; first game and all."

She nods before eyeing a lounging but twitching Stiles with her left brow raised. "Shouldn't you be leaving soon?" Mom asks, but not unkindly.

"Right," Stiles nods while getting to his feet. I freeze as he approaches me and nearly faint when he kisses the crown of my head. I inhale a sharp breath as he pulls away, and once again we share a doe-eyed look. "Right! Yeah, uhm bye guys see you- uh," Stiles scrambles over to my door but not without tripping up on my shag throw-rug, "See you later. Bye!"

Mom and I look after him as he rushes down the stairs and out of the front door; slamming it behind him.

"That was…" Mom trails off while inspecting my burning face critically, "strange."

"Just Stiles being Stiles," I chuckle awkwardly while making my way over to my closet.

"Is there anything going on between you two?" she questions, making me drop the sweater I had just fished out.

"No!" I protest sharply while picking up the cream sweater. "Now why don't you go take a shower and get ready for the game? I have to pick out an outfit for the party tonight anyway."

"I thought you weren't going to the party tonight," Mom recalls with skepticism in her voice.

I turn to her with a forced smile. "Yeah, well Lydia's nagging got to me."

"Is Scott driving you?"

"No, Stiles is," I inform her with a shake of my head. "I don't really feel like crashing his date with Allison, anyway."

Mom gives me an unreadable stare. "Are you _sure_ there's nothing going on with you and Stiles-?"

"Bye Mom!"


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Vanessa!"

Mom and I turn to the sound of my name, and I smile when I spot Allison waving us over to her spot on the filling bleachers.

"That's Allison," I tell Mom as we make our way over to the fair skinned girl.

"Ooh, she's pretty!" Mom gushes quietly to me.

I laugh. "I know. I can't imagine how Scott managed to swing that one."

Mom elbows me sharply in the ribs, but I continue to laugh because I know Scott heard my jab and I'm still really pissed at him for hurting me.

"Vanessa I want you to meet my dad," Allison chirps as Mom and I situate ourselves to her left. "Dad, this is Vanessa McCall; Scott's sister."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Argent," I smile politely as we shake hands. He's a looker for an older guy, something I know Mom notices, but my stomach feels as if it's being filled with lead as we make eye contact which fills my head with warning bells. I make a mental note to stay away from this guy at all costs as our hands drop.

"I'm Melissa McCall," Mom introduces herself before shaking both Allison and her father's hands.

"Chris," Mr. Argent smiles kindly with a nod.

A shrill whistle fills the air, and just like that the game is on.

"Which one is Scott, again?" Mr. Argent asks in confusion.

"Eleven," I answer without taking my eyes off of the field.

"Also known as the one who hasn't scored yet," Lydia adds from her seat the row in front of us. I scowl and open my mouth to tell her off but Mom's sharp elbow reminds me that Lydia is my_ friend_ and you don't tell off your friends.

Whatever.

"He's probably just nervous," Allison defends loyally. "Besides, Scott's the best one on the team; I'm sure he'll be okay."

Mom and I share pleased glances before turning back to the game with small smiles on our faces.

The game ends when Scott scores an amazing goal, which causes the Home stands to erupt into cheers, but I can tell by the ferocity Scott had shot with he was close to losing control. Shit.

"Where'd he go?" Mom questions; snapping me back to reality.

I follow her line of vision out to the field and see that the whole team sans Scott and Stiles are jumping about and shouting in victory. I fill with jittery panic but turn to Mom with a calm façade.

"He's probably in the locker rooms," I answer. "I'll go get him, okay? Meet us by the car." The car being on the opposite side of the parking lot; the farthest she can be away from my feral werewolf twin. Good.

"Alright," Mom nods before turning to Allison and her father to say goodbye.

I weave through the still cheering crowd and make my way into the locker rooms; praying that I'm not about to walk in on a massacre. Scott killing the sheriff's son would be the last thing we need.

"Guys?" I call hesitantly while turning a corner. I stop short when I find a disheveled looking Stiles pointing the nozzle of a fire extinguisher at my brother who is covered in a coat of dusty, white gloop. "What the hell is going on?" I question sharply while pushing the nozzle down towards the bench.

"Oh, you know," Stiles begins in a sarcastically casual voice, "just being murdered by your brother."

My breath catches in my throat as I look up to Stiles with a pounding heart. "Oh my God!" I exclaim while wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down into a frantic hug. "Are you okay?" I don't give him time to respond and round on my brother with a furious expression. "Scott McCall what is **wrong** with you" I scold while placing my hands on my hips and looking down to my sitting brother.

"I'm sorry guys," Scott apologizes with his sad beaten-dog expression. "I didn't mean it, I swear."

After a moment of debating whether or not to accept his apology I sigh and let my hands drop to my sides. "We know Scotty, but you just can't go around hurting people, okay? You need to stay in control."

"I know," he sighs while getting to his feet. "Do you forgive me?"

"Of course," I respond with a small smile.

Scott's face lights up like a Christmas tree and he makes a move to embrace me, but I quickly back up and unintentionally into Stiles. "I'm not going to hurt you," Scott tells me sadly as his smile falters.

"You bet your ass you're not," I retort, "but I don't feel like being covered in **whatever** that is; so go shower because we have a party to get to."

"You're the best," Scott tells me with relief in his tone; happy he had gained my permission to go out tonight.

"I know," I respond immediately; making Stiles snort in amusement. "Meet Mom and me by the car," I tell my twin while making me way back down up the isle of lockers. I pause at the end to speak to Stiles. "Stilinski, be at my house by eight," I instruct while eyeing him in his uniform. Still cute, but bordering hot…

"Yes ma'am," Stiles replies with a wink and mock salute that makes me laugh.

"Later losers!" I call before exiting the locker room and making my way out towards the emptying field.

Mom congratulated Scott on a game well-done before gushing over Allison the whole drive home, which embarrassed Scott but amused me. (Oh how the tables have turned, brother.) Once we arrived at the house I jumped into the shower and prepped for the party; blow-drying my hair before using my curling wand to create beach-y waves, applying neutral colored eye makeup (sans my charcoal eyeliner and black mascara) but plum lips, and dressing in the sweater, skirt, flats, and rings I had laid out earlier. I was ready by 7:54 and looked damn good if I do say so myself.

"Who are you trying to impress?" Scott questions teasingly from my doorway as I slip my head band into my hair. The strap irritates the cut at the nape of my neck but I adjust the strap it until it doesn't.

"Danny," I reply flatly while giving my brother an unimpressed look. "I'm on a mission to turn him straight."

Scott barks out a laugh and takes a seat on the foot of my bed as I spin my chair to face him. "Really? Because I was under the impression you were after Stiles," he responds.

I feel my face warm and I know he can hear my heart rate pick up from the grin on his face. "You're already on my shit-list for today, Scott. Don't push it," I warn while narrowing my eyes.

"Alright, alright," Scott replies while raising his hands in surrender. "I just wanted to tell you I'm heading out now. See you at the party?"

"If you manage to rip your eyes away from Allison," I begin with a teasing smirk, "sure."

"Bye Vanessa," Scott replies with a roll of his eyes as he exits my bedroom.

I let out a laugh when he slams the door behind him in a similar fashion to the way Stiles did earlier. The thought makes my face twist into a goofy smile, and I try to recall the pressure of his lips to the best of my ability. So Scott obviously knows about my festering crush, I'm sure his super hearing picked up on the way my heart races every time I'm near Stiles, which is fine because I know my brother won't say anything in fear of my revenge, but I can't help but wonder if Stiles is catching on too. Am I being obvious? I don't think so. He's the one sending out all of these signs… ever since the night Scott was bitten Stiles has been different. Not like, drastically different but more… touchy-feely, I guess. Not in an inappropriate way (although I don't think I would complain if it was) but noticeably more so than before. What does it mean, though? Is he being protective because he feels guilty about what happened, or is he developing feelings as well? Should I ask Stiles about it? Probably. Will I? Definitely not.

I let out a small shriek when a honking horn breaks me out of my thoughts, but after glancing out of my bedroom window I calm once more. Or as calm as I can be, knowing I'm about to show up to a party with Stiles Stilinski. The rumors will be flying tonight, and no one will believe me anymore when I deny them.

"Hey," I greet while hopping up into the Jeep. My heart stutters when I take in his change of clothes, which admittedly isn't extraordinary, but he looks just as good as he always does.

Stiles looks to me nervously as I buckle my seatbelt, and I know that because we're alone and without the prying ears of my brother or mom, he's debating whether or not he should bring up the almost kiss in my bathroom (it was an almost kiss, right?) and the actual one in my bedroom (which wasn't a real **kiss**-kiss, but still).

"So we'll keep an eye on Scott and if we think he's going to wolf out we take him back to your's," he says finally while backing out of our driveway.

I let out a lungful of air and hide my disappointment to the best of my abilities. Okay, so I guess we'll be ignoring it then.

"Sounds good," I reply with a curt nod before reaching out to fiddle with the radio's volume.

The car ride passes in silence if you don't count Stiles' With Ears To See And Eyes to Hear CD (a mutual favorite of ours), and although I could tell from his relaxed posture Stiles found it comfortable I was itching to leave. He hadn't even complimented the way I look tonight. I couldn't help but wonder if he even noticed I had changed from my earlier outfit, and the nagging question of "would Stiles ever think of me in the way I think of him?" raged in my head like wildfire.

My angst-ridden internal monologue is cut short when Stiles suddenly speaks while parallel parking the Jeep a block down from Jackson's house. "You look nice tonight," he says before clearing his throat awkwardly. "Your lips- they uh, that's a nice color for them."

A large smile slowly spreads across my face, and I know I look manic but I can't help but be happy as I watch him adjust the car. The cosmologist who recommended I get the lip color last weekend at the mall had told me plum makes my lips almost "kissable looking". Did Stiles think that? He obviously noticed something to point that out specifically.

"What?" Stiles questions with a nervous but defensive tone as he turns to face me.

"Nothing," I reply; hoping my voice doesn't sound nearly as dreamy to him as it does to me. "You're just something else, that's all."

We had gotten separated almost immediately because Lydia had been beside herself when she caught sight of me. She said no one else wanted to dance with her; she was a few more beers from wasted at the time so I didn't really blame them, but being the resident party girl that I am I found no fault in getting down with my annoying but entertaining friend. I didn't drink though, because not only would am I still on pain medication but I had to stay alert just in case Scott did something he ought not to do.

"I love this song!" Lydia slurs excitedly while waving her arms and swaying her hips. I find it amazing how she can still move (somewhat) gracefully while completely sloshed and wearing heels that I would break my neck in, and throw my head back with laughter at a particularly funny move. Drunken Lydia is much cooler than sober Lydia if we're being completely honest; evidence being her attempt at twerking.

"Scott!" I hear Allison call from my far right, making the hairs on the back of my neck raise in alarm.

"Danny!" I shout over the music while grabbing said boy. "Danny, keep Lydia company; I've got to go!"

The teen nods and flashes me a smile, silently giving me the go-ahead, and so I take my leave; rushing after a running Allison. I follow her out of the house and watch as she watches Scott peel away in our mother's car. I then watch as Stiles' Jeep follows after Scott with disbelief.

Well fuck you too, Stilinski.

"Allison?" I question while approaching the sniffling girl cautiously.

"Do you think I did something wrong?" she asks while turning to face me with teary eyes. "Everything was going great and then he just took off out of nowhere!"

Thinking on my toes I lay a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, do you know what time it is?"

Allison's brow furrows but she fishes her cell phone out of her pocket to check. "It's eleven thirty, why?"

"Oh my God!" I exclaim with false surprise. "My mom gets off of work at eleven! Scott probably realized the time and freaked out. I'm sure he didn't mean to strand you; he likes you so much. I'm so sorry; Scott's a complete idiot sometimes."

I watch in satisfaction as her tears dry up and a small smile appears on her pretty face. "No, it's okay. If it was my mom I would do the same. Hey, do you think Stiles could drive me home?"

Drat. Okay, so Scott's out of the dog house but now we've got to come up with another lie. Think!

"Stiles left ages ago," I begin in an apologetic tone. "He got really sick or something; I don't really know. I've been babysitting Lydia since I got here."

Okay, so that's believable enough and partially true. Scott owes me big time and Stiles better be ready to grovel at my feet for the rest of our lives.

Allison's face drops. "Do you want to walk to my house, then? I'm not too far from here and I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind dropping you off."

I open my mouth to accept the offer, but Derek Hale shows up with a surprisingly charming smile. "Allison and Vanessa, right?" he questions with false recognition. It takes a liar to know a liar, as they say. "I'm Scott's friend, Derek. He just called and told me you need a ride home. I can drive if you want."

Allison looks down to me for reassurance, and being as I want to question the lone Hale I look to him with a smile. "Der!" I chirp while internally smirking at his cringe. "That would be great. You don't mind if I take shotgun, do you Allison? Your house is closer anyway."

"Not at all," Allison smiles as Derek leads us to his black Camaro.

The ride to Allison's house is silent sans Allison's directions, but as soon as she exits the car I turn to face Derek with a determined scowl.

"You're the wolf that bit my brother, aren't you?" I question angrily.

"Werewolf," he corrects while backing out of the Argent's driveway, but he doesn't go further to confirm or deny my accusation.

"You're different than Scott," I observe after a beat of silence. "The full moon isn't affecting you at all."

"Tell me, how many people has he hurt today?" Derek asks gruffly while making a sharp turn.

"Just me," I reply before clenching my teeth. "You have to make a right here," I tell him. We don't make the right. My heart starts to quicken, and as discreetly as I can I try to open my door. It's locked, and there's no way for me to unlock it. "Where are you taking me?" I demand.

"To the woods," Derek answers in an eerily calm voice.

"I thought you said that was private property," I retort sarcastically; not at all liking the situation I've put myself in.

"That mouth of yours is going to get you into some serious trouble one day, Vanessa."

"Yeah?" I challenge forcefully with a sneer.

"Yeah," Derek echoes as his nails elongate and morph into claws.

Oh shit.

I'm screaming. I am screaming and running and maybe- definitely- crying. Why? Well as much as I'd like to blame the whole fiasco of Derek Hale, I know my idiocy is what got me into this mess. I should have never allowed myself and Allison to get into his car; I should have told him to back off because no, Scott doesn't know him and they are far from friends, but I let my curiosity get the better of me- or my stupidity really.

I trip forward but land on my side; letting out a loud groan when my temple smacks into a tree root. Dr. Hemple here I come. If I make it out alive, that is. God, I hope so.

"Scott!" I scream fearfully when Derek's ice blue eyes become visible. "Scott help me!" I scramble to my feet, or at least attempt to before falling forward once more in a fit of dizziness. Derek's glowing eyes grow bigger, indicating he's coming closer, and I whimper in fear while clenching my eyes shut. Hopefully he'll be bored by my submission and just make my death quick and painless.

I must have fainted or passed out because the next thing I know I'm in Stiles' back seat and the boys are exchanging frantic conversation.

"Why the hell did you just leave her there?" Scott shouts angrily. "She was stranded! They both were!"

"I didn't think she would get in a car with Derek freakin' Hale!" Stiles replies just as loudly.

"Well who did you expect to take her home, huh? Everyone else was wasted!"

"I was more concerned about my best friend wolfing out and going on a killing spree!"

"Vanessa should _always_ be your first priority!" Scott roars while, I assume, punching the dashboard in an attempt to make his point.

I bristle as much as I can at the insinuation and open my mouth to defend myself, even though I know I was wrong, but Stiles' slightly choked voice cuts me off.

"I know, alright? I know! I screwed up, okay? If she ends up with brain damage or slips into a coma or just_ anything _it'll be my fault! Shit, don't you think I know that?" he yells, and for a moment the car goes into shocked silence.

"Would you two idiots lower your voices," I groan while pushing myself up into a seated position. "I feel like death," I complain while pressing my cheek against the window to my left.

"Oh my God!" Scott exclaims as Stiles swerves dangerously in surprise.

"Shut up!" I hiss before quietly asking, "What happened?"

"Derek tried to make you doggy-chow is what happened," Stiles answers as his shoulders visibly tense.

I inhale sharply and sit upright in fright. "I got bit?" I question in a shrill tone that makes Scott wince.

"No!" he replies while glaring pointedly at Stiles. My twin then turns to me with a soft smile. "I heard you call for help and got to you before he could do anything."

I sag against the seat in relief. "Okay," I breathe. "So wait, what did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Scott sighs. "I couldn't land a hit, but he told me that my bite is a gift and he's the only one who can help me control the shift."

"Are you going to let him?" I ask curiously.

"After he tried to kill my sister?" Scott questions rhetorically. "Of course not!"

"Volume," Stiles snaps after noticing my wince from the rearview mirror.

"Sorry," Scott apologizes before narrowing his eyes on me. "What the hell were you thinking, anyway? Getting into Derek's car was-"

"Stupid," I finish while rubbing my temples in an attempt to soothe my earth-shattering headache. "I know, and you guys can yell at me about it later when my brain stops feeling like putty, but for right now I would appreciate some silence."

I spent the early hours of Saturday morning with my good friend Dr. Hemple who was less than pleased to see me. We did the usual tests, but by four Dr. Hemple determined my vitals looked good. He instructed me to call if I felt sick or grew dizzy, and told me to pop some Tylenol for the pain before sending me on my way. Unfortunately I was sent right into the arms of my hysterical mother who had received a frantic call from Scott saying I passed out after falling down some stairs and hitting my head.

I could tell that Mom's fussing was my punishment from the smirk on his face as I was pulled into hug after hug and kiss after kiss. The little shit had gotten me good but I knew I totally deserved it. One should never get into a car with a murderous werewolf, period.

Stiles decided to crash at our house since the sheriff would most likely come running with a gun in hand if he heard his son sneaking in at four in the morning, and no one was in the mood to go back to the hospital that day. Well besides Mom, but that's only because she has to work there.

Stiles slept in my room, which really isn't much of a surprise since he usually does. Scott is a notorious cover hog and snores louder than Mom, which is saying something. We kept the door open like she'd been making us do since we hit grade nine and changed into our pajamas, which for Stiles was really just taking off his shoes, jeans, and plaid flannel, before washing our faces off climbing into my full sized bed; me on the left and him on the right.

I was surprised when he draped an arm around my lower back and kissed my forehead tenderly; bringing us to the current moment.

"Sorry for leaving you," he apologizes softly, but loud enough so I can hear him over the symphony of snores. "It feels like all I've been doing lately is get you hurt."

I turn from my stomach onto my right side so I can face him comfortably. "I was the one who got into Derek's car," I say while eyeing Stiles with confusion.

"I know," he sighs, and his warm breath fans over my face. "That was stupid, like criminally stupid, but I shouldn't have left you there."

I bite the inside of my lip when Stiles runs his thumb along a sliver of exposed skin in between my pant and top on my hip because_ lord_ I have to physically restrain myself from kissing him right now. "Don't beat yourself up over this, okay?" I instruct while hesitantly laying the palms of my hands onto his chest. I look down to his neck and watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows before looking back up to him with a small smile. "Goodnight," I murmur while winding my arms around his neck.

Stiles' right arm pulls my body almost completely onto his as he rolls onto his back so I can lay my head on his chest and intertwine our legs. The position is far from platonic, but I'm too tired to overthink what's happened and too hopeful to tell myself he's only doing all of this because he feels guilty.

The woes of teenage love, everyone.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

When I woke up it was a few minutes past noon and Stiles had already left. Scott was missing as well, so I assumed they were together, and Mom was off at work. It began to pour at around one so I decided today would be a good relaxing day.

I lathered my hair with my peppermint deep conditioner before wrapping it in saran wrap the way mom taught me how to do, and drew myself a scolding bath before dropping in my favorite _Lush_ Butterball bath-bomb. As I waited for the vanilla-scented sphere to dissolve I plugged my iPod into its docking station before selecting me 'Relaxation' playlist. I slipped into the pearl colored water to the sound of Ed Sheeran with a calm smile on my already soothed face.

It's safe to say I've been in the bath for around thirty minutes now and don't intend on getting out anytime soon. The water is still warm, and I left enough room so I can add some more if need be, so I have the time to contemplate the shit-shack my life has become over these past few days.

Okay, first and foremost there is a killer on the loose in Beacon Hills. Not only that, but the killer is a werewolf. Speaking of, my twin brother Scotty is now also a werewolf. Great. Wonderful. The obvious suspect (of both the murder and Scott's bite) is Derek Hale, also a werewolf, but honestly I doubt it's him since he left me (relatively) unharmed last night. So who is it? Could there be another werewolf in town and we just don't know it yet? And what was its motive behind killing that girl? It just doesn't make sense.

Secondly, what the hell is going on with me and Stiles? The handholding, hugging, and intimate moments are a far cry from "platonic", but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. We've always sort of blurred the lines between friendship and something more, part of the reason why I began crushing on him in the first place, but lately it's been more obvious. He blames himself for my concussion and the cat-and-mouse chase which occurred last night, that much is certain, but are these sudden couple-y actions just a product of the guilt? Or is it something more? And if it is, should we take the chance and get together; even if that means potentially losing our friendship? Would a relationship be worth such a great risk? And what about Scott; would he be okay with Stiles and me becoming an "us"?

I let out a groan and close my eyes before submerging myself completely underwater. Since when is my life some mythical teenage soap-opera? That's what the CW is for!

I resurface with a gasp after a few moments before leaning my upper-body against the back of the tub once more. Okay, think Vanessa, think. You can easily handle this; you just have to believe in yourself. You got this. So what are you going to do about the werewolf situation?

Well, surprisingly motivational conscience, I'm obviously going to help Scott in every and any way I can. We have a whole month until the next full moon, so maybe if I do some research I can figure out what triggers a werewolf's transformation and help Scott work on doing the opposite. Yeah, that seems simple enough.

And about Stiles?

Okay, that's problematic. I could talk to him about it, question his feelings for me and get a definite answer, but then Stiles would most likely want to know the same. What would I do if I told Stiles I like him and he didn't feel the same way? Probably die of embarrassment, and without a doubt our friendship would be irreparably awkward. I could always ignore the implications to his actions, or ignore them in the moment anyway. Come nighttime I would definitely overthink his every move. Can I handle the scrutiny and psychosis that would cause? Probably, but I'd rather not test it. I could always just go along with it and not question his intentions. Maybe we'll just gradually progress and end up dating, which doesn't sound horrible at all.

So I guess I'm going with option number three?

But then again, what if we don't progress? What if Stiles and I stay in a limbo of friends-but-not-just-friends forever? Could I handle that? No, definitely not. I'm not exactly one for labels but I would probably drive myself insane if something like that happened.

Okay, so I've decided to give us until the end of the school year and if we don't become something more or go back to having our strange form of a platonic relationship **then** I'll question him.

Yeah, that sounds good.

Feeling satisfied and relieved I exited the bath ten minutes after my critical thinking and rinsed my hair thoroughly before began the slew of homework my teachers were already piling on. My Advanced Digital Photography assignment for the weekend was challenging; I had to take various pictures of objects that resemble the letters of the alphabet, and my Creative Writing poem always turned out too personal, but my non-electives went by with relative ease. All of the answers were found in the classwork, after all.

After my homework was complete, Scott was still M.I.A. and Mom wouldn't be home for another three hours so I decided to continue my productive streak and clean the house. Mom had been planning to do it tomorrow, Sunday's are our designated cleaning days, but I figured she would appreciate actually being able to relax on her day off. I even threw in a few loads of laundry, but that was mostly for my benefit. After hanging my delicates up to dry I noticed the time was a quarter to five, so I went to work on making dinner. It had been a while since we ate dinner as a family, nearly all month, so I picked a neutral favorite: Mac and Cheese with fish sticks. Mom had nearly burst into tears at the sight of it, which was embarrassing and heartwarming at the same time. To diffuse her uncomfortable gratefulness I jokingly told her not to get used to it, which made her laugh and had its desired effect.

Scott caught the end of dinner, and when Mom went up to shower and change we had some quality Twin Time. He filled me in about his day; it turns out he and Stiles had been one step ahead of me and already started their lycanthropy research. Scott said an increased heart rate is the main cause of transformations on days with a regular moon cycle, and although we both know Allison makes his heart race like no other, neither of us said it. Scott then helped me clear the table which was so sweet I gave him a noogie which he easily got out of due to his new-found super strength. He laughed at my put out face when I pouted about not being able to overpower him anymore before suggesting we watch the horror movie marathon on FX.

Sunday was spent mentally preparing myself for the next school day and helping Scott complete his formal lab write up for Chem. We both knew Harris would have anyone's ass who didn't hand it in first thing even though the due date was Wednesday and so I texted Stiles to make sure he completed his as well, to which he replied: _yes dear._ Sarcasm was oozing from his response, but it still made me smile like a loser for a good fifteen minutes.

Which brings us to today; Monday, the second Monday of the school year. I had set my alarm for six so I had enough time to shower (which lasted a better part of the hour) and style my hair into a perfected 'Miley-bun', but by the time the water had boiled for my hot chocolate I realized just how much of a mistake that was. Oh, I am **so** slumming it tomorrow.

"Tired?" Scott asks as we turn out of the driveway smoothly.

I yawn and bob my head. "Exhausted."

"You should nap in Chem.," Scott suggests with a smile in his voice.

I laugh, "Yeah right. Mr. Harris has enough of a reason to hate me just by being friends with Stiles."

"Speaking of our hyperactive best friend," Scott begins while picking up speed, "what's going on with you guys?"

"Do you _really_want to have the conversation?" I groan; hoping he doesn't.

"I'd be okay with it," my twin confesses as the school comes into view. "You and Stiles, I mean."

I can't help but smile, but then I shake my head to clear it. "There are more important things right now," I say with finality.

"I guess," Scott sighs, although from the tone of his voice I can tell he knows I'm just too scared to do anything.

I hop off of the creaky bike's handlebars once we near our usual bike rack and bid my twin ado; telling him I'd see him later. He seems confused as to why I don't stick around to say hello to Stiles before heading to our lockers as we routinely do, but I just wave him off and take a sip of my cocoa; contemplating my newly found information.

Okay, so Scott would be cool with me dating our best friend. That's terrific!

Too bad I have no idea if said best friend would be just as okay with it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Allison questions while leaning casually against the locker to my right.

I sigh and dial the combination into my own while debating my answer. "I'm having some problems shutting my teenage angst off," I say diplomatically after grabbing my English binder from the top shelf of my chipping locker.

"Boy problems?" she asks with a teasing smile. "Or should I say: Stiles problems?"

"Am I that transparent?" I moan while turning to my newly acquired friend.

"Nah," Allison winks, "I'm just that good." I laugh as we make our way to first period. "But seriously, what's wrong?"

"I just," I pause, unsure how to continue and irritably blow some air out between my teeth. "Okay, so I may or may not have had a crush on him since grade eight," I confess and ignore her squeal of delight, "but nothing's really happened, and now I'm pretty sure something **is** happening-"

"And you don't know if you should tell him how you feel because there's a possibility, a _slim_possibility in my opinion, that he doesn't like you back," Allison finishes as we take our seats in the far right corner of Ms. Jenkins's classroom.

I tap the end of my nose and frown before turning to the chalk board at the front of the room. "Yep," I reply. "But even then, there's just so much going on in my life right now that a relationship and feelings are kind of unimportant," I sigh before setting my thermos on the right corner of my desk and fishing my agenda from my pocket book.

"Hey," Allison reaches out to lay a hand comfortingly on my hunched back, "you should take care of yourself first, okay? Stiles is your best friend; I'm sure he'll be around long after you figure out whatever's going on. Maybe he'll even help you through it."

Oh, sweet clueless Allison, you have no idea. Stiles is basically mine and Scott's go-to werewolf guru.

But I can't say that, so instead I smile and nod.

"Thanks Allison," I say softly while eyeing the helpful girl. "God, I hope my brother doesn't do anything stupid to lose you," I add jokingly, but seriously.

"Does that mean I have your approval?" Allison squeaks with blushing cheeks.

"Totally," I smile while turning back towards the board so I can copy tonight's assignment. I see Allison do the same while grinning ear to ear out of the corner of my eye, which makes my smile widen.

Oh yeah… Scott better not mess this up.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The rest of the week passes as any other school week would. Nothing excitable happened in Wolf World; Scott had only freaked out once and that was on me so it wasn't that big of a deal, although Stiles chewed him out the next few days for it. Stilinski's newfound protective streak was getting on my nerves, but I found it too endearing for me to get truly angry. The only other mentionable change is that the lacrosse team, along with Lydia and Allison, had taken to sitting with us at lunch. It was weird at first, but since Scott was the new team star I just accepted the fact jocks would be a permanent fixture in my life. Besides, how could I complain about lunch with Danny?

Also, Scott managed to talk Allison into dating him which is nothing short of awesome.

And now it's Friday, the second Friday of the school year which, much to my disappointment, doesn't mean anything to the usual party throwers. I was kind of looking forward to getting tipsy with Lydia and trying that twerk think she was doing, but alas there was no house party to go to. What a hard life I lead.

"Hey losers," I greet Scott and Stiles while plopping down into my usual seat adjacent to them; my voice sounding exhausted at only lunch time.

"Says the girl who got her ass _whooped _last night in Mortal Combat," Stiles retorts with a toothy grin that makes me scowl.

"Nerds," Jackson insults with disgust from his place beside Lydia.

I turn my steely gaze on him before responding, "Asshole."

"Bitch."

Both Scott and Stiles bristle at the derogatory name but I ignore them and respond, "Dick."

"Skank."

"Douche bag."

Jackson's face looks murderous as he leans forwards and toward me. "Cu-"

"Finish and see what happens, Whittemore," Stiles growls with surprising malice. I turn to my friend with raised eyebrows but he pays me no mind; narrowed eyes only for Jackson. I notice Scott looks livid as well, so I kick my twin in his shin to catch his attention. I shake my head jerkily and look down to his hands which nails had turned to claws. Scott notices the shift as well and quickly hides the appendages under the lunch table.

"Oh yeah?" Jackson taunts. "What are you gonna do about it, Stilinski?"

I butt in before a fight can break out. "He's not worth it, Stiles," I say while reaching out to grab said boy's clenched fists.

Stiles' face is hard and scowling but he turns away from Jackson and nods to me; his shoulders relaxing as he did so. I pat his hands before getting to my feet and swiping a French fry from Danny's tray.

"I'm outtie," I say with a wave.

"Where are you going?" Scott asks with concern that warms the cockles of my heart.

"Nurse's Office," I answer. "I'm not really feeling that great. I'll see you at home." And with that I depart feeling hurt and proud. Hurt because no one besides Scott and Stiles attempted to stick up for me (Like what the Hell Lydia your boyfriend was about to drop the C-Bomb, and Allison I thought we were homies, what the shit?), and proud because Stiles actually **threatened** Jackson Whittemore when Stiles is the least confrontational person ever.

"Sign in," Mrs. Greene chirps brightly from behind her desk as I enter the cheery colored Nurse's Office decorated with signs like _An Apple A Day Keeps The Germs At Bay! _and _Wash Your Hands Before Every Meal!_

I do as instructed and ten minutes later my mother gives me the go-ahead to go home. She offers to leave work early to pick me up but we both know we can't afford to have her miss hours, so I decline and promise I have no problem walking home, even though I totally do because it's freezing and I actually **am** feeling a little under the weather. Whatever. Mo' money mo' problems, as they say.

Okay, I did not just quote that.

I exit the parking lot after grabbing my jacket from my locker and bundling up. A bike ride from my house to the school is approximately ten minutes but walking there is double that time. Add in my sluggish speed and heavy wind gusts I'm looking at a twenty-five minute walk, give or take, which sounds as shitty as it feels. At the halfway mark I pull out my cellphone, feeling bored and numb from the cold to text my brother and tell him the happenings.

_On my way home, freezing my metaphorical balls off. How's Chem.?_

I'm alerted with a reply only a few moments later.

_Did you take the bike? And it's Chem…. what do you think?_

I snort and trip over a fallen branch before steadying myself.

_Send Harris my love. And I didn't know taking the bike was an option ?_

Scott's response is an insult to my intelligence which sparks a name-calling war, similar to the one Jackson and I had earlier, but with G-rated language.

A few blocks away from my house a purring and familiar black Camaro pulled up beside me before stopping sharply; making me jump away and squeak in surprise. _911! Derek Hale is trying to kidnap me! _ I mass text Scott and Stiles without looking down to my phone but rather towards said kidnapper while speeding up my walk and making a sudden turn completely out of my way.

Derek's car follows me easily and I hear his driver's side window roll down. "You need a ride?" he calls in a silky smooth voice.

"Because last time turned out so well," I reply sarcastically while breaking out into a jog.

"Still have that mouth I see," he replies, his tone threatening, while revving the engine to his car; obviously trying to scare me. It works of course, which makes me angry with myself but angrier with the werewolf terrorizing me.

My heart rate picks up and I know he can hear it as I begin sprinting as fast as I can. Thinking quickly I dart into Mr. Fitz's yard, run through his backyard and hop the picket fence in order to get into Ms. Jenner's property. Derek could run circles around me, I'm not stupid enough to think otherwise, but I figure I had a better chance of sneaking through neighboring properties without the cops getting called than he did- which is definitely something he would think about too.

I feel my phone vibrate frantically in my hands and I pick it up knowing who it is. "Hello?" I croak with a dry throat.

"Oh my God what is going on?" Stiles shouts on a panic.

"Oh you know," I begin nonchalantly but pause when I have to hop into the Jensen's yard and pick my phone up to my ear once more, "just avoiding a homicidal werewolf who has a history of kidnapping me. What about you, how was class?"

"Hold on Nessa, Scott is beeping in."

"I'm gonna kill Derek!" I hear my twin exclaim angrily.

"Which is what he probably wants," I pant, "or at least for you to try. I mean, this is his usual way to get your attention; scare the shit out of me making me call for help, and thus leading you into a trap. Why doesn't the guy just text you like, I don't know,** sane** people do? Or send you a letter. Hell, I would even appreciate smoke signals at this point. My body is **so** not up for this kind of cardio."

"From your rambling I'm going to assume you're scared shitless," Stiles says. "Where are you? I'm on my way."

"Don't bother," I command while crossing the street and (finally) approaching my house. "I'm walking up the driveway now. Everything's cool, I'm just going to take a nice hot shower, eat my weight in Reese's ice cream, and watch stupid movies. Actually, why don't you come over anyway? Scott has a date tonight and I don't feel like making fun of the horrible acting by myself."

"Only if the list of movies include Harold and Kumar," Stiles negotiates, making me roll my eyes as I unlock my front door.

"You only want to watch it for the topless scenes."

"This is true."

"You're disgusting," I insult.

"You two can flirt later," Scott butts in; reminding me suddenly that he's in the conversation. "Right now we have a _serious_ problem!"

"Scott, Derek isn't going to hurt me. I'm totally fine and Stiles will be here so-"

My twin interrupts me urgently, "This isn't about Derek; it's about my date!"

I'm slightly insulted by Scott's apparent lack of concern but take the bait anyway. "What about your date?" I ask tiredly before falling face-first into the couch; which I notice reeks of that grossly scented Fabreeze spray my mom is obsessed with. Yuk, get some taste Mom.

"They're going bowling," Stiles replies. "Scott I can see you riding your bike. Stop being an idiot and get in the car."

I can hear Stiles' Jeep's door open and close, so I assume my twin had entered the vehicle. "We'll talk when you get here; I'm hopping in the shower now. Deuces," and with that I hang up and get to my feet; thinking of my brother's horrible bowling skills and wondering how the hell Allison got him to agree with that one.

Then again, he's so wrapped around her finger all she has to do is bat her eyelashes before Scotty turns to mush…

Cue whipping sound.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Unbelievable," I huff, "I leave you to your own devices for one afternoon and you manage to get friend-zoned? What is _wrong_ with you?"

"I don't know! Nothing!" my twin exclaims with an edge of hysteria to his voice.

Feeling guilty and sympathetic I sigh and stand; ready to help in any way I can. "Okay, calm down; this is salvageable. You're going with Jackass and Shitia," I ignore Stiles' bark of laughter but silently rejoice while placing my hands on my panicked brother's shoulders, "so we can turn this 'hang out' into a double date in no time. Go shower, I'll pick out your clothes, and for the love of God don't freak out. You've got this."

"You're the best sister ever!" Scott flatters while wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into an airborne hug. I let out a shriek of laughter when he spins and slap the back of his neck lightly.

"Down boy!" I command, and almost immediately I am dropped. Scott disappears into his bathroom with a large smile on his; slamming the door behind him.

"Jackass, Shitia, and a dog joke," Stiles lists while coming up from behind me as I scour Scott's closet for an even remotely attractive shirt, "someone's claws are out today."

I smirk; taking Stiles' words as a compliment despite the concerned tone in his voice. "I guess salvaging my brother's love life makes me snarky," I reply. "Or more snarky than usual," I then add as an afterthought.

"What do you think of this?" I question suddenly while holding up an attractive outfit to my frame; dwarfing me completely.

Stiles eyes inspect me with mock deliberation and he strokes his chin in false deep-thought. "I don't know… I much prefer your current ensemble. Ducky pajamas suit you."

I blush at his teasing flattery but play it off with an eye roll. "You're impossible," I sigh while lying out the pant and tops I had chosen for my twin across his bed. "Now let's get out of here; I'm not mentally stable enough to survive a run-in with Scotty Boy in his birthday suit."

"Derek shook you up, huh?" Stiles questioned with forced casualty. I could tell from his posture he was angry; buzzing with anger, actually. It was kind of hot.

I shrug noncommittally as we descend the stairs. "He makes me nervous," I confess while we enter the kitchen. I immediately head for my peppermint hot cocoa packets, and Stiles routinely takes two mugs down from the cupboard. "Really nervous, actually," I babble. "But he's the only one who understands what Scott's going through-"

"You're not suggesting-?" Stiles interrupts.

"I am," I return the favor while turning to meet his gaze steadily.

"You're crazy," Stiles insults with an incredulous expression. "Nessa, he tried to kill you!"

"No he didn't," I protest while filling the teakettle with water. "He scared me; shit he _terrified_ me, but it was just bait. I'm _bait for Scott_, don't you get it? Derek wants to help-"

"We wouldn't need help if he kept his fangs to himself!" Stiles shouts.

I roll my eyes; irritated with his irritation, but refrain from starting a fight. "I know," I sigh instead. "But he didn't and now my brother is a werewolf and he needs help."

"I can help him," Stiles volunteers firmly, and I totally melt inside.

"You're amazing, you know that?" I murmur softly; overcome with admiration for my twitchy best friend. I didn't really mean to say it out loud, but I can't help that it came out so I don't bother to take the words back.

Stiles' naturally pink cheeks flush darker but before he can respond loud whistling cuts through the air; effectively ending our conversation.

"How do I look?" Scott asks with a grin as Stiles and I sip our warm beverages at the kitchen island.

I laugh loudly at Stiles' wolf-whistle before answering my twin myself. "Dapper," I compliment with a smirk and suggestive raise of my brow. "Allison won't be able to take her hands off you."

Scott flushes. "Thanks."

"You better get going," Stiles suggests while pointing to the analog clock above our refrigerator.

"Shit!" Scott curses having realized he's running late. "Bye!" he calls over his shoulder while exiting the house; slamming the door with a _bang_.

Scott and Allison's date had gone well. For one, it did end up becoming an actual date, and secondly (as gushed about) there was a pretty great make-out session in the car before Mr. Argent interrupted it (to which I laughed over for at least fifteen minutes).

I convinced Stiles to watch Clueless with me since I was unable to do it the week before. He didn't put up much of a fight because he's secretly in love with Cher (which is fine being as I totally am, too), and I even talked my way out of watching Harold and Kumar. He ended up staying over again, but instead of sleeping in my room the two of us just passed out in the living room- me getting the couch, of course.

Saturday was a sleepy haze and Sunday had been somewhat adventurous, what with the overwhelming amount of homework I had. Come Monday morning I was a week ahead of my classes and well-rested, meaning the tickle in my throat from Friday was all but gone, and so I entered the kitchen that morning with a bright smile only to frown at the horrified expression on my twin's face.

"What?" I demand with a tilt of my head. "What happened?"

"I had this dream," Scott begins as his eyes dart around the kitchen nervously. "Except it was real, like it was so _real _and I attacked Allison and she was screaming and oh my god I think it actually happened because she isn't answering my texts and-!"

"Whoa!" I interrupt while raising my hands in an attempt to hush my twin's panicking. "Scott calm down, maybe her phone is off, or dead, or in the bottom of her purse? Don't freak out, okay? Let's head to school early and look for her."

"But you didn't make your hot chocolate," Scott observes while his hands twitch in a Stiles-worthy tick.

"I can go a day without," I say with a dismissive wave of my hand. "Your peace of mind is more important than my chocolate addiction."

On the bike ride to school Scott tells me all about his dream; the bus, the gross make-out scene, and all of that jazz, and from the way he kept saying "it just felt so _real_" I started to grow worried as well. What if Scott really did hurt Allison? The guilt would eat him alive, and if Allison had lived through the attack she could out Scott; revealing him to the world. As much as I like my brother's soon-to-be girlfriend I would rather her just be dead than have Scott turn into some freak-show or lab rat. Did that make me selfish? Definitely, but as the Queen says: "Baby I was born this way".

Oh dear God, again with the embarrassing quotes.

My twin and Stiles' conversation snapped me back to reality, and I eavesdropped while adjusting my pleather skirt distractingly.

"So you killed her?" Stiles questions with alarmingly little concern.

"Stiles!" I snap in a scolding tone while slapping said boy in the chest. Not helping!

"What?" he asks indignantly, to which I roll my eyes.

"I don't know," Scott interrupts nervously. "I woke up and I was sweating and I couldn't breathe! I've never had a dream like that before."

"I have," Stiles offers helpfully. "But they usually end a little differently."

I flush brightly, I can feel the heat flooding my cheeks, and physically restrain myself from shoving my best friend into the janitor's closet to our right to have my way with him. To cover up my embarrassment and sexual frustrations I roll my eyes and slap Stiles' chest once more. "Gross!" I yelp, even though I'm finding the mental images quite the opposite.

"This is serious, guys!" Scott whines. "I really think I did something!"

I glance towards the window to my right in an attempt to get a glimpse of myself since a side effect of being a teenage girl is narcissism, but instead catch sight of something that makes me gasp and stumble over my own feet.

"So do I," I whisper as my eyes widen at the crime scene just outside of our school's walls.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Oh my god," Scott and Stiles panic in unison as their eyes glue to the same scene I can't look away from.

"It's horrible, right?" a feminine voice suddenly questioned from behind us; making me jump with fright.

I turn quickly and beam with relief at the sight of Allison who, despite contrary belief, looked unharmed and just as chipper as always. "Allison!" I greet happily as my twin stares at her awestruck.

"Hey guys," she greets with a pretty smile. I notice the flirtatious eye-thing she and Scott engage in, so I grab Stiles' forearm and begin leading him away.

"See you in class!" I call over my shoulder before jokingly tagging on, "Try not to get pregnant!"

"You're _horrible_," Stiles says with a laugh.

"No," I disagree while twirling the combination into my locker before looking up to my friend out from under my eyelashes, "I'm _adorable_."

Stiles looks down to me for a few moments with an unreadable but dazed expression on his face, which makes me feel uncomfortable and foolish and just everything that's ever been wrong with the world, and so I exchange my unneeded books for the required ones in an attempt to distract myself before Lydia, bless her gossiping heart, flounces over to meet me with an excited air about her.

"Vanessa, Vanessa oh my god!" the strawberry blonde exclaims before eyeing Stiles calculatingly. "Oh, sorry. Say goodbye to your boyfriend, I've got some news!"

I roll my eyes before giving Stiles and apologetic smile. "I'll see you in lunch," I promise while closing my locker door.

He grins down to me and bobs his head in agreement, which is obviously enough of an answer for Lydia since she grabbed my hand and began steering me towards the art room.

I listened to her babble about Jackson; mentioning something about a key and how their one-year anniversary was coming up, and I did all of the things a friend should do. I nodded when appropriate, made suggestions when asked, and congratulated her on having a relationship last quadruple the expectancy of most high school relationships. The last bit was said with only a **smidgen** of sarcasm, which luckily went right over Lydia's pretty little head.

Bless her.

Unfortunately our chat resulted in unexcused tardiness on my part, Lydia had walked us directly to _her _class of course, which meant I would have detention today after school. What made it worse is that Monday afterschool detentions are Mr. Harris' scheduled day; always had been and always will be.

Sigh. I get enough of Severus Snape's reincarnation during class time. Being in his presence for an extra hour was just torture, not to mention Mom would have my ass when I got home.

By lunch time I was in a pretty bad mood. My Creative Writing teacher Mr. Dean had ripped apart my short story in front of the entire class; calling it "vague", "too ambiguous", and "clearly written on the bus ride to school". I don't even take the bus… jerkoff. Not only that but while it wasn't Allison who had been mauled by a "mountain lion" (not a very believable story, although I suppose compared to lycanthropy it is) it had instead been a vaguely familiar man who had been rescued from the bus just before seventh period ended. His flailing and screaming scared the crap out of me, and I swore in French (I thought it was appropriate being as I was _in French_) which resulted in getting scolded by Madam Bestrode for the remaining seven minutes of class.

Yeah, today was just not my day.

"What's your problem?"

I look up from the suspicious gloop on our usual lunch table to Scott, who is peering down at me with concern. Stiles joins us with a similar expression, and so I simply sigh and shrug my shoulders noncommittally. My problems are really petty in comparison to the greater picture here, so I choose not to complain even though just a month ago I would have launched myself into a melodramatic rant before strutting out of the lunch room simply for the added affect.

Unfortunately Lydia, clueless to the mythical drama taking place in Beacon Hills, decides to answer for me.

"She has detention," Lydia supplies scandalously with an evil twinkle to her eyes.

"Isn't it Harris' day?" Stiles questions with a sympathetic frown.

I nod. "Yeah, but whatever."

"I'll drive you home," he volunteers before taking a sip of his water bottle.

"You don't have practice today," I say with a furrowed brow, "you won't have anything to do."

Stiles shrugs and gives me a closed-lipped smile, "I'll find something."

"Stiles, I can walk home," I inform him with narrowed eyes.

"I don't_ want_ you to walk home," he responds determinedly. "Besides, it's cold out."

I bark out a surprised laugh. "It's cold out?" I echo incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"How did I not notice your chemistry sooner?" Lydia suddenly interrupts. "It's so cute!"

"For the millionth time," I begin exasperatedly with an eye roll, "we aren't dating!"

She gives me a skeptic look. "I understand trying to keep it hush-hush, but honestly there's nothing to be ashamed about. Just because Nial is a benchwarmer-"

"His name is Stiles," I correct with a sneer, "and this conversation is over."

Lydia bristles and matches my mean expression expertly. "Fine."

"So," Allison begins uncomfortably, "what do you think happened to that guy?"

No one had to ask who she was referring to.

"I heard a mountain lion attacked him," Danny offers.

"_I_ heard it was a cougar," Jackson says importantly. I rolled my eyes at his ignorance. He and Lydia are truly a match made in hell.

"A cougar is a mountain lion, dumbass," Stiles informs irritably.

I tune the rest of lunch out and pick at my apple/chicken/walnut salad in silence. Lydia's comment about Stiles' position on the team had really ticked me off. It was unfair for people like her to think he was somehow inferior because he wasn't a star player. It isn't as if he's bad, either! Coach Finstock is just biased and chooses the majority of his players based on how much their family's donate to the athletic department. The only reason Scott managed to get play time this year is because of his literally inhumane skills; otherwise his ass would have been planted beside Stiles' just like it was last year.

Chemistry and Economics passed as slowly as classes with that magnitude of "bore" do, and before I knew it I was making my way back to Lab 03 with a frown.

"Up front McCall," Mr. Harris orders when I enter the room. "Phone," he then adds while outstretching his left hand.

I scowl and fish my cell out of my back pocket before slapping it into his offered appendage. The smile on his face makes my mood worsen and I collapse into the stool he indicated to.

"You know the rules, McCall; no talking, no sleeping, just homework and reflecting on why you're here," Mr. Harris said monotonously while looking down to the papers he had begun grading contently. I glared at the teacher for a few moments before opening my Algebra 1 binder (I had failed the class last year, not that that was surprising being as I hate math more than I hate Jackson) and getting to work.

By the time my hour was up I had finished the day's homework and sketched a beautiful portrait of the Devil himself, AKA Mr. Harris. A productive sixty minutes, I think. I collected my phone with a sickly sweet smile before hightailing it out of the lab; eager to get home and relax. It had been a stressful day in my new world, and I was ready for it to be over.

Fate, however, seemed to have other things in mind.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten **

"I thought I told you I was walking," I say with a smile while approaching my locker and, coincidentally, Stiles.

He returns the grin. "And I told_ you_ it was cold out."

I laugh and roll my eyes while opening my locker to withdraw my jacket. "I have a coat," I reply while shaking the navy cloth in hand.

"Well since I'm here anyway," Stiles begins while nodding out towards the parking lot and thus his Jeep.

"You're awful," I laugh while setting my useless books down on the top shelf of my locker. There was no use in taking them home when I finished all of my work, after all.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles replies with a roll of his eyes as I slip into my coat. "Now let's get out of here; I can only take so much of these halls."

I nod in agreement and button up as we exit the building and embrace freedom once more.

"I can't believe you stayed late just to drive me home," I blurt while eyeing Stiles curiously.

"Why not?" he questions in an insulted tone as we climb into the Jeep.

"It's just-" I slam the door beside me shut; "you're so nice to me."

"I'm always nice to you," Stiles responds earnestly.

"I know. That's probably why everyone thinks we're dating."

I freeze after realizing what I just said and look to my friend with wide eyes. We'd never talked about the vastly spread rumor, and I was under the impression we had a silent agreement that we never would… which I now just ruined.

Once again: not my day.

"Do you want me to stop?"

I turn to look at Stiles with confusion. "Stop?" I echo with a tilt of my head.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Being nice to you," he answers.

I catch the underlying message. _Do you want me to make it clear that we aren't dating?_

"Of course not," I reply with a shake of my head. "I don't care what other people think, Stiles." I was inadvertently saying: _I don't want other girls to think you're available_, but he remained clueless.

I turn to look out of my window and notice we don't make the turn required to get to my house. "Hey, where are we going?"

"Scott went to Derek Hale's house for answers," Stiles informs me before pursing his lips in irritation. "That guy who was rescued from the bus? Yeah, turns out he's your old bus driver."

"What?" I question in alarm.

"Yeah," he nods, "and since you know him-"

"Scott still thinks he was the one who attacked the guy," I finish. "But why would Scott go to Derek?"

"Don't you trust Derek?" Stiles questions while glancing at me curiously out of the corner of his eye.

"No," I sigh with a shake of my head. "But I trust that he won't kill me or Scott. Me because I'm bait and Scott because… well, I think he needs Scott for something."

"What would he need Scott for?"

I rub my eyes tiredly; careful not to smudge my makeup, before answering. "I don't know."

"Gee, thanks for the insight," Stiles retorts sarcastically with a cheeky grin.

My mouth drops and I let out a guffaw before slapping his shoulder with a smile. "Dick!"

"Hey!" Stiles exclaims while reaching out to slap my shoulder in return. "No distracting the driver!"

"No hitting the passenger!" I retort while shoving his arm away with a grin.

"You started it!" Stiles laughed before pinching my thigh quickly.

The rest of the car ride went similarly, and although it was only a five minute drive, it was still nice to have five minutes of normalcy. We were just two teens goofing around; playfully insulting each other at every opportunity and screaming with laughter. I tried to soak in the moment to the best of my ability, because that nagging feeling that always ends up right was telling me times like that would be few and far between.

"Stop! Stop!" I shriek with laughter while squirming away from Stiles' tickling hand. "Isn't that Scott?"

Stiles laughs but turns to look at the direction I'm pointing to. "Yeah," he smiles while pulling the Jeep over to my strolling twin. "I thought you were going to wait for us at Derek's?" Stiles questions Scott while he enters the vehicle.

I slide into the middle seat and fasten the belt around my waist. "What did he say?" I ask curiously.

"We have to go to the school," Scott answers.

I let out a groan and pout in a surely unattractive way. "But I've been there _all day_."

"You're the one that got detention," my brother retorted with a roll of his eyes. "Derek said I have to… let my senses remember for me."

"What kind of cryptic B.S. is that?" Stiles asks while making a U-turn.

"I don't know," Scott sighs while running his fingers through his hair.

"It means," I begin while unbuttoning my coat; warmed by both boy's body heat, "you need to break into the bus."

"Okay," Scott nods. "Okay, so you two be lookout and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Stiles interrupts. "Why am I starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin?"

"What?" I snap while looking to my friend in confusion.

"No one is Batman and Robin," Scott says earnestly. I look between the two boys in utter confusion; suddenly lost.

"Not even some of the time?" Stiles prompts with disappointment.

"No," Scott sighs and gives his head a shake. "Not even some of the time."

I can't help but blink at the pair stupidly for a moment before shaking my head with a small, clueless smile. "Boys," I whisper under my breath exasperatedly; although I'm sure my brother's wolfy senses picked up on it.

"Honk if someone's coming," Scott orders as we approach the school's parking lot.

"Will do…" Stiles salutes before mumbling, "Batman," bitterly under his breath. Scott rolls his eyes and exits the Jeep, leaving me and Stiles alone and in silence.

"What's up with that?" I question with a furrowed brow.

"With what?" Stiles pouts while crossing his arms dejectedly.

I narrow my eyes on him and mirror his position, only with much more attitude. "_That_."

"Nothing," Stiles answers. I raise my left brow but don't respond, so he sighs and, as always, caves. "He's Batman and I'm Robin!"

I repress the laugh bubbling inside of my chest. "What does that even _mean_?"

"It _means_," Stiles sneers, "I'm the sidekick!"

"You're _not_ a sidekick!" I shout with an incredulous laugh. My chuckling dies in my throat when I notice the insecure look on Stiles face. "Hey," I say softly while reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you _aren't_ a sidekick. You're like… Iron Man! Yeah, the smart debonair one! Totally you."

A large and slow smile begins to spread across the lower half of Stiles' face, and I fill with pride for making such a beautiful thing happen.

"You're only saying that because he's the only superhero you know about," he accused with a playful eye roll.

"Not true!" I protest. "The new Spiderman Andrew Garfield could _totally_ get it."

"And you say I'm gross!" Stiles says with a laugh.

I shove him lightly with a happy smile before turning to look out towards the mangled bus. I can't see Scott through the night's darkness, but I do see a beam of light coming from the school. Definitely security.

"Scott!" I shout while reaching over Stiles to honk the Jeep's horn. "Scott!"

"What- oh crap! Scott!" Stiles takes over the frantic noise making so I reach over to open the passenger's side door.

After some seriously impressive ninja moves my twin returns to the Jeep safe and sound, before we peel off with, wait for it… _Stile_. Get it? No, you're not into name puns? Your loss. I'm hilarious.

"What'd you remember?" I question my twin breathlessly; exhilarated from our getaway.

"It wasn't me," Scott pants. "I mean, I was there but I didn't attack him. I was trying to save him!"

"Well do you know who it _was_?" Stiles asks curiously.

"Derek," Scott growls angrily.

My brows skyrocket as I face my brother in surprise. "That doesn't make any sense," I say.

"What are you talking about? It makes perfect sense!" Scott exclaims while looking at me incredulously.

"Oh yeah?" I challenge. "Tell me, why would Derek want you to remember him killing someone?"

My twin's determination falters at my question, and I silently gloat. Unfortunately before I can feel too victorious, Stiles rains of my parade.

"Maybe it's some sort of pack initiation?" he muses. "Like, you have to kill together or something."

As much as the thought revolted me… it made sense.

"Well it doesn't matter," Scott smiles, "because I didn't kill him. Do you know what this means?" I open my mouth to respond but Scott answers his own question. "I can still go out with Allison this Friday night!"

"I was gonna say you won't kill us," Stiles sighed before shaking his head in a mutually felt disappointment, "but okay."

"That's it?" I prompt while glaring at my brother. "Allison? Is that why you were so worried? Because if you _had_ killed that guy you were going to have to cancel your date?"

"Vanessa-" Stiles began, but I interrupted him irritably.

"No," I snap without looking away from my twin. "Is that all it meant to you?" I press on angrily.

Scott looked to me with utter confusion for a few moments before shaking his head and addressing Stiles. My question had obviously been deemed unimportant.

Dick.

"There was something else," Scott says. "When I was there I could smell… something."

"Something?" Stiles prompts as I fold my arms and scowl at the upcoming scenery ahead.

"Blood," my twin replies. "I think he buried the other half of the body."


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

"You _think_?" I echo. "How can you not be sure?" Scott gives me an impressive glare that I internally swell with pride over.

"Well I don't exactly know what the other half smells like, do I?" he retorts.

"Then sniff it out, _Scooby_," I sneer while bristling at his tone.

"It's at the morgue," Stiles interrupts as his shoulder ticks. My and Scott's rare arguments make him extra twitchy, and at the remembrance my anger simmers.

I sigh softly and shrug. "Well it looks like I'll be giving Hemple another visit."

"What?" Scott asks. "Why?"

"Because I just twisted my ankle walking home and I think it might be sprained," I answer with an upward quirk of my lips.

"No you didn't."

I duck Stiles' elbow when he reaches out to slap the back of my twin's head. "We know that, dumbass," he says with a roll of his eyes. "It's a cover to get us in."

"Oh," Scott nods. "I get it."

**XXXXXXXX**

"Okay," Stiles begins while putting the Jeep in _Park_, "Me and Vanessa will go to the emergency room while you sneak into the morgue."

"I'll call you when I'm done," Scott promises. "Just meet me in the car and we'll figure out what we're gonna do from there."

"You ready?" Stiles asks while turning to face me.

"Pretending to be injured?" I question rhetorically. "Please, I'm in my comfort zone."

**XXXXXXXXX**

"What are you doing?" I hiss as Stiles wraps an arm around my upper back.

"Making it believable," he replies with a smile just before hooking his free elbow around the bends of my knees.

"Stiles!" I yelp while grasping his neck nervously.

"Relax," he soothes. "I'm not going to drop you."

"Scott?" a familiar voice calls from down the corridor. "Oh my god, Vanessa! Are you alright?"

"I tripped," I lie as my worried mom approaches our trio. "I think I sprained my ankle. Is Dr. Hemple around?"

Mom gives me an exasperated look while fiddling with the chart in her hands. "I'll give him a page. Just take a seat in the waiting room, okay?"

"Sure thing Miss. McCall," Stiles responds with a charming smile.

Mom's gaze softens on him, and she gives a small nod. "Thanks Stiles. I'll meet you when you're with the doctor, Ness."

"See you," I call to her retreating back before turning to face Scott. "Go!" I urge. He gives a sharp nod before stealthily running off towards the stairwell.

"So what are we gonna do when your ankle isn't sprained or swollen or… anything?" Stiles questions while setting me down on a free chair in the far corner.

"Thank Jesus and call it a night?" I suggested sarcastically with a smile.

"Vanessa," Dr. Hemple interrupts grimly, "and here I thought you'd forgotten all about me."

I look up to my doctor with a cheeky smile. "How could I forget my favorite physician?" I question rhetorically.

"I'm your only physician, Vanessa," Hemple sighs while rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Now your mom tells me you twisted your ankle. Do I need to get a chair?"

"I can carry her," Stiles volunteers.

"That won't be necessary, son," my doctor dismisses while glancing over to my mother who had just entered the waiting room. "There's Miss. McCall with a wheelchair, now."

"I'll wait here," Stiles reassures me after helping me up and over to the mobilized seat beside me.

"Okay," I nod.

"Where'd your brother go?" Mom questions as we exit the waiting area and head toward an empty hospital room.

"Bathroom," I answer; thinking on my feet.

She nods distractedly while helping me onto the examination table. "Which ankle?" she prompts.

"My right," I answer. She unlaces my right boot and tucks away my loudly colored sock before Dr. Hemple took over the inspection.

"Well it doesn't look swollen," he observes. Dr. Hemple then begins rotating my heel with calculating eyes. "Does it hurt when I do this?"

"A bit," I lie. "Honestly Dr. Hemple, I wanted to come here to make sure it was nothing serious."

"Should I see if an x-ray machine is open?" Mom asks nervously over Dr. Hemple's shoulder.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Mellissa," he responds. "You should keep off of your feet tomorrow," Dr. Hemple advises as Mom helps me back into my sock and shoe. "Ice it overnight and come back if the pain gets any worse."

"Thank you, Doctor," I smile while stroking the velvet fabric of my boot distractedly.

"I'll fax a note over to the school," Dr. Hemple tells my mom while adjusting his stethoscope, "to excuse an absence. She won't be needing crutches, so a day's rest should do it." I don't know whether to feel victorious or guilty for the verdict, so I simply look up to the speckled tile in an attempt to distract myself.

"Could we have a moment," I hear Mom request. I look to her, thinking it was me who she wanted to leave, only to see Dr. Hemple nod and exit the room.

"Mom?" I question unsurely.

She sighs and reaches out to stroke my cheek gently. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

"Dr. Hemple just said-"

"I'm not talking about your ankle," Mom interrupts with a shake of her head. "You've been getting hurt a lot lately, and I'm worried that either you're getting clumsier with age or-"

"I just have a lot on my mind," I interrupt; not wanting to find out what was tacked on to that 'or'. "It distracts me from… walking."

"Is this about your father?" she questions with a furrowed brow.

I pull away from her touch immediately. "Why would this be about Dad?"

"It's just… with Irene pregnant-"

"What?" I croak in surprise.

Mom reels back and gives me a wide-eyed look. "You didn't know?"

"Irene's-?" I gasp as tears blur my vision. I blink them away quickly and inhale to steady my emotions. "When did you find out?"

"A month ago," Mom answers. "I thought he told you. That you didn't say anything because you didn't want to upset me…"

"A month," I repeat dumbly. "Oh my god." I look down to my fumbling hands before glancing back up to my mother. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," she sighs. "I don't know."

"Well do you know," I exhale a shaky breath, "do you know if it's a-"

"You should ask your father, Vanessa," Mom interrupts with a shake of her head.

I nod. "Yeah. I'm gonna head home, okay?" I don't give her the opportunity to answer because I'm already out of the room and rejoining Stiles and my brother. "Let's get out of here," I order while breezing past them; not even pausing to speak.

"What happened?" Scott questions while reaching out to grab my arm.

I shake him off as we enter the parking lot. "You first," I demand.

"It was her," my twin explained. "Derek's the killer."

I want to deny it, but the evidence and the lone Hale's actions keep me from doing otherwise. "So what are we going to do?" I sigh while entering the vehicle.

"We don't know yet," Stiles answers. "Now," he lays a hand on my left shoulder; causing me to look up at him, "why were you in such a rush to get out of there? You didn't even fake a limp!"

"She's pregnant," I blurt shakily while blinking away my swimming tears.

"Who, Mom?" Scott questions shrilly with wide eyes.

"Irene," I whisper with a trembling lip. My face becomes slack when I realize the unfinished accusation of my mother. "Mom thought I've been getting hurt for Dad's attention…" My features twist into a sneer as I bring my knees to my chest. "Because I'm so pathetic…"

"Vanessa-"

I interrupt Stiles softly. "Can we just go home? I'd really just like to go home." I look down to the dashboard to avoid Scott and Stiles' eyes while shutting down my emotions. I don't want to feel this pain again; this rejection. Dad and his mistress had once again left me reeling, only this time I didn't have anyone to be strong for. Scott had developed indifference towards our father and Irene, and Mom was dating again. It was just me who held onto the childish hope that our family coming back together again… that Irene would just disappear and Dad would show up on our doorstep with roses for Mom and a promise he'd never break again… and with no one to be strong for but myself, I knew it wouldn't be long until I crumbled.

I couldn't deal with this, I realized as Stiles put the car in reverse. I couldn't deal with this bombshell. Werewolves, murderers, and dead bodies I could handle, but the news of my father's new family would be my destruction.

I didn't thank Stiles when we reached pulled into our driveway. I didn't even wait for Scott to get out of the car first; I just climbed over him, opened the door, and took shelter in my room. I ignored the boys when they knocked at my door having realized I locked it. I ignored my mom when she came home from work and tried to comfort me. I ignored my phone when Lydia called, and called, and then called once more. I ignored the fact that Scott could hear my cries, no matter how muffled they were from my pillow. But most of all, I ignored the things I was too afraid to address the way I always do.


	13. Chapter 12 Part 1

**Chapter Twelve**

I didn't wake the next morning until ten. I would have appreciated the extra four hours of sleep if I still hadn't been exhausted from my cry the night before. Yesterday had just been awful. I wanted to erase it from my memory; to forget everything I had learned and simply go about business as usual. I couldn't, though, because it _had_ happened… and that was one thing I couldn't ignore.

I checked my phone to see a few texts and missed calls from friends; mostly Stiles, but a few from Lydia, Allison, and even Danny who wanted some relationship advice. I thought it was ridiculous… why the hell would Danny want relationship advice from _me_ of all people? I apologized and told him to ask Lydia. She and Jackson have been together for a year now, anyway. Stiles had sent a barrage of _are you okay?_s to which I texted back a short: _I'm fine, don't worry. Sorry._ Lydia wanted to know why I wasn't in school, but since I knew she would interrogate my brother about my absence I decided to leave her unanswered. Last night's missed calls remained a mystery, although I'm sure she saw something on Facebook she wanted to gossip about.

Gotta love/hate Lydia.

I took a shower to get yesterday's smeared makeup off of my face before realizing Mom was home and taking refuge in my bedroom. She didn't bother me, or make much noise at all, really. I figured she was scared of what I had to say. For a while I contemplated calling Dad and demanding answers, but I didn't think I could get through the conversation without crying so his number remained undialed. I stayed in bed even after Mom left for work because moving seemed like a lot of work.

I felt like I was (finally) starting to come to terms with the divorce, but I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

When I heard Stiles' Jeep pull into the driveway I sat up, confused, and peered out of the window beside my bed. What the hell was he doing here? I watched as Scott stepped out of the passenger's side, and the determined look on his face made everything clear. We were making a move against Derek.

"What's going on?" I question while descending our stairs.

"We have to uncover the body," Scott informs me while throwing a cardigan my way. "Get some shoes on."

"Okay," I nod while slipping my arms into the soft material.

"Hey wait," my twin calls softly while grabbing my upper arm.

"What? What is it?" I question while looking up to him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?"

"I just-" Scott pauses before shaking his head. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I answer in a steeled voice; not at all liking the waters we're suddenly treading in.

Scott's face twists into anger for a moment before calming once more. "Listen Vanessa, one day you're gonna want to cry to something other than your pillow-" I open my mouth to deny him but he jerks my arm gently to shut me up, "and when you want to talk I'll be here."

"What's the point?" I ask as an overwhelming wave of hurt and teenage angst washes over me. "Everyone leaves, Scott. Nobody stays. Not with _me_, anyway."

"You don't believe that," Scott denies. When I don't answer his face falls. "Is that why you don't want to tell Stiles how you feel? Do you really think we'll all just leave you?"

I swallow the lump in my throat and shake myself out of his significantly looser grasp. "I don't know what to think," I whisper while looking away from my twin's heartbroken gaze.

"I'm not Dad, Vanessa," Scott says. "Neither is Stiles. We care about you."

"Well so did Dad, Scott!" I shout angrily while meeting his disappointed eyes. "Feelings change. Dad has this new family and this new life so much better than ours and-" I cut myself off with a shake of my head; knowing this rant is what Scott wants. He wants me to open up. "Let's not do this now, okay? There are more important things right now."

I turn away and grab a pair of sneakers from the brook cupboard beneath the stairs. Scott simply watches me as I pull them and socks on, but when I go to exit the house he calls something that makes me pause.

"What excuse are you gonna use when there are no more important things?"

I don't know, Scotty. I don't know.

**Author's note!**

**This is a really short chapter and I know I should have extended it but I thought this was just a nice place to leave things off until tomorrow (or maybe later if I decide to be generous).**

**Review and tell me what you think; I love hearing from you guys! Give me your opinions about Vanessa and where I'm going with this story and how you're liking the way I'm incorporating her into the show!**

**Also do you guys know if Dylan O'Brien is shaving his head for the new season because I've been hearing that he is one day and then that he isn't the next and AHH I just can't picture Stiles with Dylan's hair (even though they're the same person but whatever). Also relating the new Teen Wolf season I hear that Ericka is getting with both Boyd and Derek but I'm not entirely sure and I just reallllllly don't like Ericka. Maybe it's because last season with her whole "You make a good Batman" to Stiles line really ticked me off due to the fact I can really only picture Stiles with Vanessa who I've been making up in my head since like… the premier of the show.**

**Anyways, leave a review and if you have an account you'll get a PM back but if not I'm thinking of doing Author's Notes at the end of every chapter to thank/address questions!**

**xxx**


	14. Chapter 12 Part 2

**Chapter Twelve Part Two**

"This is taking forever," Stiles whines while running his hands down his face.

"He's got to leave sometime," I respond with boredom.

"Where would he go, though?" Stiles questions while turning to face me.

"I don't know; to scour the city for fire hydrants?" I muse.

"Enough with the dog-puns," Scott pleas over mine and Stiles' rambunctious laughter. "Now shut up before he hears us!"

"Sorry," I snicker while pressing my hand to my lips. "So what's the point of this, anyway?" I whisper. "I mean, what are we doing here?"

"We need to dig up the body," Scott answers simply for the umpteenth time.

"I _know_ that," I reply with an eye roll. "But why? I mean, this is police work isn't it?"

"And_ how_ would we explain to my dad why we know a body is buried without seeing it?" Stiles questions snarkily.

"Shh!" Scott hushes while ducking down behind the dashboard. "He's leaving!"

I roll my eyes when Stiles crouches as well, and refrain from commenting about how if Derek caught sight of the Jeep he would know it was us whether our faces were shown or not. We wait a few moments after Derek's Camaro disappears down the dirt road to grab our packed shovels and search out the unknown victim's makeshift grave. With each misplaced dirt pile I silently apologized to the girl who couldn't be at peace even in death. To make myself feel better I thought of her future wholeness; that her severed ends would be reunited and the county would give her a proper burial and grave site. It helped only slightly with the guilt.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I breathe shakily while pausing my efforts. "I mean, this poor girl… she doesn't deserve this. Any of this."

"Hey," Stiles lays a hand on my shoulder, "that's why we're doing this. So she'll have justice."

I look into his eyes for a moment before nodding. "Okay," I say, but don't continue digging. "It just doesn't make sense, though. I mean, why would Derek bury the other half of the body? Why not just leave it out in the open like he did the other half? And I mean… to bury it on his property is just stupid. Foolish, even. What if… what if it wasn't him? What if-"

"Again with the innocent theory?" Scott questions exasperatedly. "For such a pessimist you sure do see a lot of good in Derek."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap while bristling at his insinuation.

Scott looks up to me in surprise before blinking and giving his head a shake. "Nothing, I'm sorry. The full moon's coming up… I guess it's making me-"

"It's fine," I sigh. "I get it. Now let's just get _this_ over with."

"Ask and you shall receive," Stiles announced while pulling his shovel out from the ground. "I think I found something."

He and Scott crouched down and uncovered a mass wrapped in a thick tarp. I peered over their shoulders nervously while adjusting my ponytail just to do something with my hands. We all held our breaths when they began to unwrap the body's meager protection only to inhale with gasps at the gruesome sight beneath us.

"Oh my god!" I shriek. "Is that a-?"

"Wolf," Scott finishes in a breathless voice.

"Werewolf," Stiles corrects.

"Oh my god," I moan while covering my eyes with my hands. "Oh my _god_!"

"We can't bring my dad into this," Stiles says.

"How is she a wolf?" Scott questions as I sink to my knees. "I don't transform like that."

"Maybe it's different for girl werewolves," Stiles muses. I'm so terrified I don't even bother to point out the sexism of his statement. "Hey, what's that?"

I peak out from behind my fingers only to see my brother and friend's hunched backs, but I hear- what is that? It sounds like tearing paper. My guessing is cut short at Scott and Stiles' sudden screams of horror.

"What?" I question while pushing my way in between them. "What- oh my god!" I collapse once more but cannot close my eyes or look away. She's staring right at me; her eyes are dry and wide and unseeing but an irrational fear of her looking into my soul overwhelms me. It's as if she's judging me; silently questioning why I disturbed her eternal rest. As if this is all my fault.

"Vanessa!" Scott exclaims while slapping my cheek lightly. I snap out of my horrified trance when Stiles' face blocks the girl from my sight, but I cannot snap out of the horror itself. "Vanessa are you alright?"

My inhale is sharp and shaking as I meet my twin's eyes with a slack jaw. "She's so young," I breathe. "Scotty she's so _young_."

"I'm going to take her to the car," Scott says while turning to Stiles. "I think she's in shock. Call your dad; I'll be back in a second."

"No," I sigh while shaking my head in protest. "No, I'm fine I just- I need to get out of this hole." I turn and grab hold of exposed tree roots to haul myself up and out of the unknown victim's unearthed grave. I'm comforted by a warm breeze as I put a bit of distance between myself and the hole, and it doesn't take long until Stiles and my brother join me.

We call Stiles dad before hiding out in the Jeep, and when Derek arrived he was greeted by Beacon Hills' police force. Once he was safely locked away in the back of a deputy's car Stiles' dad waved us over.

"So anyone want to tell me how you came across the body?" Sheriff Stilinski questions as we approach him.

Stiles recoils under his father's gaze and licks his lips nervously. "Well we were looking for Scott's inhaler because he dropped it the other night-" I interrupt him with a swift elbow to his gut while internally cursing his poor lying skills. He'd just buried us under a mountain of growing lies.

"You mean the night you said Scott and Vanessa were at home?" the sheriff prompts with a raise of his right brow.

"No! Yes! Maybe…"

"So you lied to me," the sheriff sighs in disappointment.

"Well it depends on your definition of lying," Stiles replies.

"I define lying as not telling the truth," Sheriff Stilinski informs us while squaring his shoulder. "How do you define it?"

"Laying down... in a horizontal position," his son answers while holding his hands up to demonstrate.

My snort of amusement is masked with a cop's call for the sheriff exiting the Hale house. "Be right there!" Mr. Stilinski shouts back to the deputy before training his eyes on our trio once more. "You three go home and stay there, okay?"

"Thank you Sheriff Stilinski," I smile sweetly as he leaves to join the crowd of officers. I turn to face Stiles only to see a vacant space beside me, and when I turn once more to Scott I'm met with the same visual.

Okay.

I trudge back to the Jeep and lay out in the back seat to wait for Stiles and Scott to come back from whatever the hell it is they're doing.

"Stiles is an idiot," Scott announces while joining me in the vehicle.

"Did you_ just_ realize?" I retort with a small smile.

"He's interrogating Derek," my twin says. "And now his dad is walking him to the car." I can hear the smile in Scott's voice, and I laugh humorously. Sheriff Stilinski should know better than to trust his son to do what he says by now.

"What'd you do?" I ask as Stiles grudgingly enters the Jeep.

"I wanted to know what was different about the girl," he answers while tossing his backpack into my lap.

I roll my eyes and push the bag off of my body so I can sit up properly and buckle in. "And?"

"My dad caught me before he could answer."

I let out a disappointed sigh but nod in complacence. "Okay, then we'll just have to figure it out on our own. I mean, he must have had some sort of motive for killing another werewolf."

"Stop!" Scott exclaims while punching the roof of Stiles' car; making me jump as Stiles swerves in surprise.

"Scotty?" I prompt fearfully as his breathing grows erratic.

"Stop saying that; werewolf! Stop enjoying this so much!"

I recoil but reach out to lay a shaking hand on his shoulder. "Scott I don't-"

"Don't touch me!" my twin roars while throwing my hand off of his shoulder' making it slap against Stiles' headrest.

"Hey!" Stiles shouts as I let out a cry of pain.

"Stop the car," my brother demands in a frightening tone.

"No!" Stiles denies while glaring at Scott out of the corner of his eyes.

"Stiles," I whisper fearfully while cradling my bruising hand to my chest, "I think you should pull over."

"I can't breathe!" Scott wheezes while twisting his body around to face the back seat.

I flinch away from his hands even though they're not reaching out to touch me. I watch Scott with wide eyes as he unzips Stiles' knapsack and jump when he throws it to the ground.

"You kept it?" he roars while lifting up dirt covered rope.

I peer around Scott's shoulders to see a beautiful flower sprouting from the rope's end, but my Vampire Diaries obsession tells me that although the flower is beautiful it is highly dangerous.

"Wolfsbane," I whisper in horrification. "Oh my god Stiles, pull over!"

The next thing I know Stiles is throwing the rope off into the woods and my brother is gone.


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Scott returned home a few hours later and apologized profusely for injuring my hand. Stiles started to chew him out but I cut off their arguing before it had an opportunity to begin. I was getting tired of the ever present pattern of it all; Scott wolfing out, hurting me, apologizing for it only to do it again a few days later. He needed to learn how to control the shift and quickly or else I didn't want to be around him anymore. As much as I love Scott I love myself more, and he was becoming a safety hazard.

"So what happened?" I question tiredly while draping a throw blanket over myself and Stiles. It had been four days since Derek was arrested but the three of us hadn't had the chance to discuss the details of Monday night. "What did you do after you ran off?"

"I went to Allison's," Scott answers while spinning around haphazardly in my desk chair.

"While you were wolfed out?" Stiles asks in alarm while squirming on my bed to find a comfortably position. I roll my eyes at his incessant movements while bouncing slightly from my mattress' springs. I'd push him off of the bed if he wasn't so freaking _cute_.

"Yeah," my twin concedes with a nod of his head. "But her dad hit me with their car and snapped me out of it."

"What?" I cry out with wide eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I heal fast," Scott shrugs.

"Did he see that you were-?" I pull a face; unsure how to continue.

"Nah," he answers. "But he did say that he'd see me at the game."

I groan and flop backwards in defeat. "I am sick of these games falling on full moons," I whine. "You have no self-control as it is."

"I'm trying!" Scott responds desperately as Stiles drapes his arm carelessly across my stomach; making me flush brightly.

"I know," I sigh while forcing my mind to stay on topic. "I know Scotty but there's something about Mr. Argent that makes me feel… bad. Like he isn't what he seems. You barely got away last time; if you shifted again with everyone, especially him, watching…" I trail off; not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Maybe you should sit this game out," Stiles suggests nervously. "Derek did say-"

"Oh, so we trust Derek now?" Scott interrupts with annoyance.

"Hey!" I snap while sitting up to glare at my brother. "See, this is what I'm talking about! Your fuse is too short tonight; you need to-"

"I don't need to do anything," Scott says while getting to his feet. "I'm heading out early; I'll see you at the game."

I don't bother to ask him to stay. Instead I just watch as he exits the room and jump when the front door slams shut.

"I can't do this," I announce after a few moments of silence.

"Yes you can," Stiles assures me while sitting up properly. "I'll help you. We'll do this together."

I turn to him and shake my head in denial. "No," I sigh. "It's been a month but this isn't getting any better." I lift up my left hand and Stiles' honey eyes trace the outline of my still-purple bruise. "I'm tired of being his punching bag, Stiles. He's my brother but I don't know how to help him."

"Then we'll figure it out," Stiles replies simply while grasping my bruised and unharmed hands.

I roll my eyes and pull away from his grasp to grab my boot up from the side of my bed. "Just like how we figured out why that girl werewolf could fully transform," I say sarcastically while adjusting my sweater. I didn't see the point of changing out of the clothes I wore to school; the only reason I was going to the game was to make sure my brother didn't turn into a homicidal maniac, not to impress anyone.

"Stop being such a pessimist," Stiles scolds as I grab my earmuffs off from my desk.

"Stop being such an optimist," I retort with a roll of my eyes.

"Okay," he begins loudly while getting to his feet, "someone needs a hug."

I smile but shake my head in protest. "No I don't" I reply while backing slowly away from Stiles.

"Yes you do," he singsongs while opening his arms widely. "C'mere!"

"Stiles," I whine while pushing against his chest, "_no_!"

"Your mouth is telling me no," Stiles begins while pulling me forcefully into his chest despite my squirming, "but your body… your body is also telling me no."

I snort loudly at his words before launching into a fit of giggles and returning the warm embrace. "You're such a dork," I chuckle before pressing my lips to his shoulder and closing my eyes; allowing myself to lean into Stiles and soak in his overflowing strength.

"You love me," he replies easily.

I simply sigh and wind my arms around his midsection further; tightening my grip. "What would I do without you?" I question softly.

"We'll never know," Stiles promises before kissing the crown of my head and cradling the nape of my neck with his right hand.

It was the third time he'd done that, but the first I reacted differently. His kiss didn't make me nervous nor did my heart stutter; but that didn't mean my romantic feelings were dissipating. Instead I felt comforted and safe. I think it meant my feelings for Stiles were maturing. My stomach buzzed happily with butterflies instead of churning with pterodactyls and although my breathing was hitched it wasn't labored. I felt like my crush was growing; blossoming into something more than just infatuation… but for now I would ignore my revelation's implications because, after all, there were more important things.

"We should get going," I breathe while opening my eyes and pulling away.

Stiles gives me a toothy grin and takes the earmuffs from my left hand before perching them crookedly on my head. "Dress warm," he advises while picking my coat up off of the bottom half of my bed.

I bundle up and fix my hair before we head towards the school, which is already filling with parents and friends. "Hey, isn't that your dad's car?" I question while pointing to the state vehicle a few parking spots away.

"Yeah," Stiles answers confusedly with a furrowed brow. "I wonder what he's doing here."

I roll my eyes as we exit the Jeep. "To cheer you on, _obviously_."

"But I don't play," he retorts as his hands twitch.

"Then to be here for moral support," I correct. "Go get ready; I'm gonna see if I can find your dad." I don't really think about what I'm doing until I'm already doing it. I place a kiss on Stiles' cheek (which is warm and smooth and dotted with a lone beauty mark and not far off from his freakin' _lips_) before pulling away with a heated face. "Uh- g-good luck," I stutter before scurrying off towards the field without looking back.

**Author's Note!**

**Okay so this is another short-ish chapter, but it's over 1000 words so I don't think that's too bad. I'm still trying to get into the swing of things and as I get more into the show the chapters will become longer. I'm also debating on whether or not I should go a little off course. What do you guys think? I don't want this to just be a character insert and I'm definitely going to incorporate Vanessa and Scott's dad's baby-mama drama into this, but I'm unsure if I should dedicate whole chapters to simply that or write it into the show. Suggestions would be helpful!**

**As far as reviews:**

**krenee321- ah, I didn't mean for that to be too sad! I'm just trying to make Vanessa's reluctance to confess to Stiles and to address anything remotely uncomfortable realistic. My main goal is to keep her as honest as I can. One of my main complaints is how unrealistic OCs for this and all fandoms are. I come across OCs that are too bubbly, pessimistic, or random which really ticks me off. Although most immediately deem Vanessa as a Mary-Sue since I wrote her in as Scott's sister, I'm trying to keep her as angsty, fragile, angry, and lost as all teenagers are. Self-reflections are something I do a lot, so I thought it would make sense to write those in as well. While her first one in an earlier chapter was constructive (she made a promise to herself to tell Stiles what she was feeling after a certain deadline) Chapter Twelve's was melancholy and defeated; reactions I would have if I were in her situation. **

**I don't know if you or anyone read that whole thing but if you did; congrats!**

**Guest- I would be more upset over the fact I spelt a character's name wrong if that character wasn't Erica. I just **_**arg**_** I really don't like her. She's over-sexualized and although that makes her feel empowered it's a false sense of empowerment. What was with that whole jumping-Derek's-bones thing last season when he wanted his pack to be unpredictable in their attacks? Like, Erica, keep your hormones in check! You're a frigging 16 year old and Derek's what, twenty? I would feel differently if she sincerely had feelings for the guy but all I'm seeing is lust! In her mind sex=power and honestly that's just B.S. Ugh. I really just don't like her.**

**Okay guys, that's it for now! Review, I'll have a new chapter up later today or tomorrow, and stick with me! I know it's going slow but I'm trying to improve!**


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Hey Sheriff," I greet brightly while joining the lone man. He's still in his uniform but his posture is more relaxed than I had seen this school year. The sheriff makes room for me and smiles an easy smile that makes it impossible to question his relation to Stiles. Sometimes it's hard to see their resemblance, Stiles physically looks like his mom's side of the family, but their mannerisms could be eerily similar sometimes.

"Vanessa!" the Sheriff chirps happily. His happy expression quickly turns to one of fatherly concern. "What's got your so red?"

I assume he's talking about my ever-present Stiles-induced blush. Oh nothing; just kissed your son is all.

"Just feeling a little warm," I lie. "Excited for the game?"

He nods. "Do you think my son'll get any play time?"

"I'm hoping," I smile. "He really is getting good."

"Not that, that loudmouth coach would notice," the sheriff grumbles while narrowing his eyes on Finstock.

I laugh and nod in agreement. "I know. But hey, we're losing almost half of the team next year when they graduate so Stiles will _definitely_ be in then."

"You've always had so much faith in Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski states while looking to me out of the corner of his eyes.

My face warms and I look out to the field in avoidance. "Yeah well, he's always been there for me so I figure, why not return the favor?"

"Your mom told me about Ingrid's pregnancy," Stiles' dad begins while laying a hand sympathetically on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Vanessa!"

"Lydia," I sigh in relief as the strawberry blonde pushes her way into the small space between me and Sheriff Stilinski. Heart to heart: avoided. "Where's Allison?"

"Dunno," Lydia shrugs uninterestedly. "But you'll never guess what _I just heard_!"

"What?" I ask while smiling at her enthusiasm.

An evil glint lights in her emerald eyes, and suddenly I don't want to know. "Stacey Jennings told me she saw you kissing Stiles Stilinski in the parking lot! Ha! I _knew_ you were dating!"

"Stacey Jennings is a pathological liar!" I exclaim while looking over Lydia's smug head to the sheriff, who was now looking to _me_ with a dumbstruck expression.

"Duncan Knight saw it too!" Lydia singsongs.

"It was for good luck!" I protest desperately.

"He doesn't even play," she counters.

"It was on the cheek!"

"Don't be so embarrassed," Lydia scoffs with a dismissive wave of her hands. "Besides, now you can finally swipe your V-card and-"

"_Oh my god_! Lydia _shut up_!" I exclaim in mortification.

"I'm sorry," she retorts sarcastically, "but are you five or fifteen? I'm not so sure anymore."

The shrill ringing of a cellphone calls out, and Sheriff Stilinski (with a face nearly as red as mine) takes his mobile from his pocket and descends the bleachers. Once out of earshot I glare at Lydia with as much hate as I can muster.

"Lydia that-" I point to the sheriff, "is Stiles' _dad!_" Her jaw drops at the realization and for a moment I think she's going to apologize… but alas, she instead bursts into a fit of laughter; amused by the horrible position she's put me in.

"Oh my god," Lydia gasps through her giggles, "that's _great_!" I try my hardest to not join in, but even I couldn't deny the hilarity of the situation.

"What's so funny?" Allison chirps as she and her dad join us.

"Lydia basically just told Stiles' dad I'm planning on deflowering his son," I laugh unabashedly.

"Well are you?" the brunette questions scandalously while leaning over Lydia with a devilish smile.

I groan in defeat as Lydia shrieks with laughter. "Stiles and I _aren't_ dating!" I exclaim tiredly.

"What does sex have to do with dating?" Lydia smirks.

"You guys suck," I state plainly while getting to my feet. "I've got to use the bathroom; save my seat."

/

I exit the school building with a shiver and stick my hands deep into my coat's pockets. I could hear cheering and blowing whistles coming from the field; indicating the lacrosse match had already begun. I was disappointed that I missed the team's entrance, but being as I would be sitting through every game like the good sister and supporter I am, I didn't get too upset about it.

I stopped some ways away from the bleachers and looked on for a moment; feeling strangely nostalgic about the present in that way only teenagers can. I could hear the home stand's cheering as another whistle sounds out and victorious hands peak over the bleacher's edges, but everything seemed muted. Clouds of my breath fogged the stands like an oncoming storm and an ominous feeling crept up in the back of my mind. It was that premonition again; that soon everything would turn in on itself… and for some reason I knew Allison's father would have a part in it.

"Scott shouldn't be playing in tonight's game."

I jump at the sound of my sudden company's voice and turn my heel to meet Derek Hale's gaze. "When did you get out?" I question as my hands tense into fists.

"What happens when he shifts out there? Do you think everyone will keep cheering him on?" Derek asks rhetorically as his green-grey eyes narrow in anger.

"He doesn't listen to me," I say while swallowing my nerves. If he had wanted to kill me then, surely by now, he would have. Was I right before in thinking all he wanted to do was help?

"That's right," Derek agrees in a condescending sympathy, "all he does is hurt you."

I bristle at his words. "He doesn't mean to," I snap angrily.

"He needs my help, Vanessa," Derek says while taking a step towards me. As he moves forward I stumble back; still skittish in his presence. "You know that."

"He doesn't listen to me," I repeat. "Now if you'll excuse me," I brush past the newly freed man and let out a relieved breath when he doesn't try to stop me. When I reach the field and turn to look back Derek's already gone. I exhale in relief before setting my sights on Stiles who, as always, is seated on a faraway bench.

"Would you like to tell me why I was just cornered by Derek Hale?" I question while sliding into the free spot beside him with my left brow raised.

Stiles turned to face me and mirrored my expression. "Would _you_ like to tell me why my dad thinks we're having sex?"

Besides for my jaw dropping; I freeze. It takes me a few moments to come to my senses, but that's mostly because of the fact my brain has Stiles saying "we're having sex" on repeat completely without its context.

I blame hormones and the wonderful things a lacrosse uniform does for Stiles' physic.

"Lydia," I answer simply before pursing my lips. "Your turn."

"The coroner found fur on the girl's body," Stiles begins bitterly.

"Wolf fur," I breathe before rolling my eyes in annoyance.

He nods in confirmation. "Yep, and Derek, being human-" I snort in ironic amusement, "was exonerated."

"This _sucks_," I whine while tugging at the ends of my hair with irritation.

"That's not the worst of it," Stiles sighs; making me meet his eyes curiously. "They identified the girl. Her name's Laura... Laura Hale. She's Derek's sister."

My jaw drops and eyes widen at the new found information, but before I can respond Coach Finstock notices my presence.

"Other McCall; on the bleachers! This is for players only!" the loud man exclaims while grabbing my upper right arm and hauling me to my feet.

I give Stiles a meaningful look of the coach's shoulder before snaking my way up through the throng of cheering people and back to Lydia.

**Author's Note:**

**Uh-oh, Vanessa's getting all kinds of bad vibes from Mr. Argent! Soon she'll find out why. I wonder how she's going to react… hmm… one things for sure; there will be lots of shouting at Scott involved! Also I wonder how the "confirmation" of Stiles and Vanessa's relationship will affect their ACTUAL one?**

**I'm really pleased how this chapter came out, and I was glad to be able to show how Vanessa interacts with her other friends. Her and Lydia's friendship is growing more dynamic as time goes on. They're playful and raunchy one moment but at each other's throats the next. I think they're similar in some ways, which is why they clash every once in a while.**

**Review, add this story to your favorites, and make sure you also add S.O.G. to your alerts! Happy holidays you guys!**


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Nice sign," I compliment sarcastically while joining Allison, Mr. Argent, and Lydia. The gaudy poster reading _WE 3 JACKSON_ in glitter-glue was being shaken excitedly by Lydia but held reluctantly by Allison; a wonderfully hilarious sight.

"Thanks," Lydia smiles while looking up to me with a bright smile. Allison and I share a look of mutually felt exasperation and amusement at our friend's obliviousness before turning out to the field, where my brother was dominating.

"Your brother sure is good," Mr. Argent says in a suspicious tone. "A little on the aggressive side, but really remarkable."

"Yeah," Lydia agrees breezily. "It's weird though, last year he was just a benchwarmer."

"He practiced over the summer," I defend tensely; not at all liking Mr. Argent's calculating eyes studying Scott score a nearly impossible goal. "It's all he and Stiles did."

"But Stiles is still a benchwarmer," Lydia says as the players reassume their positions. I see Scott's eyes look to Allison, who is still holding the obnoxious profession of love for Jackson, and can practically _feel _his animalistic rage. Let's hope the only reason I can sense it is twin-telepathy and not unmasked obvious.

"And Jackson is still an asshole," I state loudly with annoyance. "The world continues to spin on its axis."

"Well _someone's_ defensive over their boyfriend's position."

I don't even bother to respond.

The game is unsurprisingly won and, almost singlehandedly (I say "almost" because although I hate Jackson The Jackass he _is_ a decent lacrosse player) by my brother. Being a rival match the stands were in uproars; Home was beside itself with victorious cheers while the away team Kings High's bleachers moaned and booed loudly with disappointment. It was so chaotic that by the time I noticed both my erratic twin's and Allison's absence I couldn't escape the mob until quite a few minutes, only to be stopped in the hall leading into the changing rooms by Stacey Jennings ex-boyfriend; a cute and known Kings lacrosse player named Jacob Smalls.

"Hey," he smiles charmingly while tossing his helmet from one hand to the other. "You're Veronica, right?"

"Vanessa," I correct while trying to step around him. My attempts were sullied when he too sidestepped. Irritated, I begin to speak once more. "Vanessa McCall, actually; sister to the player who knocked you on your ass not too long ago, remember him? I'm sure he won't mind refreshing your memory if you don't move the fuck out of my way."

"Ooh," Jacob grins while outstretching his free hand to stroke the side of my face, "feisty."

"Disgusting," I spit while going to shove past him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he questions while grasping my forearm; effectively locking me in place. "I'm trying to have a conversation, here."

"Let go of me," I demand while pulling harshly against his strong grip, which unfortunately doesn't falter.

Stiles appears and has Jacob pressed against a wall so quickly for a moment I don't even believe it happened.

"_Don't touch her_," Stiles growls while pulling Jacob from the wall only to slam him back to it once more. His face is lethal, and I would have been scared if it didn't kind of turn me on. (Once again: hormones, physic.)

Stiles' deadly expression _does_ however scare Jacob, who looks about ready to wet himself. Stiles towers over Jacob by a few inches, (I've always had a thing for tall guys) and that mixed with Stiles' literal buzzing with anger is enough to make the cocky Smalls boy apologize.

"I didn't know she had a boyfriend, man," Jacob begins while holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry."

Neither Stiles nor myself correct his inaccurate assumption. Instead I just gently grab Stiles' right wrist and give it a tug towards the locker rooms.

"C'mon," I say softly. "Let's go; he isn't worth it."

Stiles sneers meanly (an expression I'd never seen on him before) at Jacob for a moment before pushing off of the teen, grabbing my hand, and towing me into the home team's locker room. I'm just about to speak when we walk in on my brother and Allison making out (gross) aggressively.

"Ew!" I shriek while clamping my free hand over my eyes.

"Vanessa!" Allison exclaims in surprise. By her use of lips for speaking and _not_ kissing my brother I peak out of the cracks of my fingers before letting my hand drop completely. "I'm gonna go…" the brunet says awkwardly with pink cheeks. "I'll see you later."

"I kissed her," Scott breathes euphorically after the room's door clicks just behind Allison.

"We saw," Stiles replies tersely; obviously not over the whole Jacob-Smalls thing.

"She kissed me."

"Saw that too."

My twin's face contorts in confusion as he eyes our best friend with scrutiny. "What's your problem?"

"I just had to pull some horn-dog ass-wipe off of your sister," Stiles snaps irritably.

"What?" Scott questions sharply.

"Stiles!" I exclaim shrilly while ripping my hand out from his to slap his chest.

"What happened?" my twin growls.

"Nothing," I answer shortly while glaring up at Stiles. He can be such an idiot sometimes. Like, how does his thought process go? _Hey, my best friend's a temperamental werewolf and it's a full moon: I should tell him about Jacob Smalls trying to maul his sister!_ "And more importantly," I give Stiles a pointed look, "Derek Hale's been exonerated."

"_What?!_"

Okay, so my news probably wasn't much better than Stiles'; but unlike the Jacob-Smalls fiasco this was a need-to-know bomb that had to be dropped.

"Other McCall!" Coach Finstock, once again, interrupts as he leads the sweaty (but incredibly attractive) lacrosse team into the changing rooms. "Out!"

"Fill him in," I order Stiles while ignoring the catcalls thrown my way. Fortunately the majority of them were from Danny, whose ass I swatted on the way out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was finally beginning to doze when Stiles and my brother burst into my bedroom. They had gone to Danny's victory house party while I opted to sit the party out. The week had been too chaotic and I had too little hours of sleep. Plus the idea of being out and about with Derek Hale on the loose, despite the fact I actually _don't_ believe he killed his sister, didn't set too well with me.

"What?" I question the panting boys tiredly while rubbing my bleary eyes. "Scott where's your shirt?"

"Why don't you answer your phone?" Stiles all-but shouts while glaring down to me.

I recoil at his harshness and sit up in bed; sensitive from my sleep depravity and unwavering bad vibes.

"I turned it off thinking you two could handle yourselves for _one night_," I snap.

"Shut up!" Scott roars while pacing frantically. "Just _shut up!_"

I throw the comforters off of myself and get to my feet with a furrowed brow. "Okay, what the hell happened? Why is there blood on your arm?"

"It's her dad!" my twin shouts in despair. "It's Allison's dad!"

"What?" I ask in confusion. "Mr. Argent is the killer?"

"No!" Scott denies while coming up short. His eyes look to me and flash yellow; making me tense and step back in fear. "He's a _hunter_," Scott growls. "He shot me with a frickin' cross bow!"

"Oh my god!" I yelp in concern and surprise while taking a step towards my twin with outstretched hands. "Are you-?"

"_Don't touch me_," he growls as Stiles grabs my arm and pulls me away from my enraged brother.

"Scott," Stiles begins slowly while stepping in between myself and my twin protectively, "why don't you just go to sleep? It's been a long day. I'll tell Vanessa what happened."

I peak over Stiles' shoulder to see Scott nod in acceptance. "Okay," he says before exiting my room; nearly slamming the door shut behind him.

"Stiles what the hell is going on?" I question softly as the tall boy turns around to face me. He sighs and runs his left hand over and down his face before rubbing his chin tiredly. I notice the bags under Stiles' eyes, and for the first time realize I'm not the only one losing sleep over this whole situation. "Hey," I prompt softly while taking his right hand off of his chin and into my own, "it's gonna be okay."

"How do you know?" Stiles asks, sounding more defeated than I'd ever heard.

I stand on my tip-toes and wrap my arms around his neck; pulling him in for a hug I hope is warm and comforting. "Because I have you," I whisper simply while letting my eyelids flutter closed.

Stiles heaves out a long sigh and wraps his arms around the small of my waist; attempting to pull me closer to him despite the impossibility. "This is all my fault," he whispers into the side of my neck. "You were right; we never should have gone out looking for the body that night."

"Stiles!" I exclaim softly while jerking my upper body away from his. I stay as close as I can to his eyelevel and take his face between my hands. "_None_ of this is your fault," I stress as the soles of my feet quiver. "I don't blame you, Scott doesn't blame you; if anything you're his biggest _help_!" I flop down until I'm flat-footed once more but don't lose my grasp on Stiles' face. "It's isn't your fault," I repeat more softly before letting my hands drop. "Now c'mon," I sigh while crawling back onto my bed. "Tell me what happened."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

A pair of tired groans reached my ears; one from me and one from Stiles, as my phone's shrill ringing pierced the early morning air. I was going to let it continue until the person either eventually hung up or my phone sent them to voicemail, but then I realized it was not my cellphone that was shrieking but rather the house phone. Mom usually left it on my nightstand when she had early morning shifts, and so I blindly grabbed the offending cylinder-like object, pressed the button on the far, upper-left corner, and pulled it to my right ear.

"Hullo?" I answer while pulling my face out from its burrowed position in my favorite pillow.

"Don't tell me you're still sleeping!" the high-pitched voice of Lydia Martin shouts statically from the other end. "We're supposed to go shopping today, remember?"

"Vaguely," I respond dryly while twisting my body around so I can sit up properly. "What time is it?"

"Nine," Lydia answers exasperatedly. "I'm _supposed _to pick you in a half an hour, but I'll give you another thirty minutes."

"Why are we going shopping again?" I question as Stiles looks up to me with bleary eyes. I give him an apologetic smile but before I can apologize Lydia speaks up once more.

"For clothes, duh. Plus we need to start looking for Winter Formal dresses."

"_Vanessa_," Stiles whines tiredly, "it's _early_."

"Ooo, is that your boyfriend?" Lydia asks scandalously. "Did you _actually_ swipe your v-cards?"

"Shut up," I snap; not really sure which friend of mine it's addressed to.

"I'll be outside by ten!" the strawberry blonde chirps informatively. "And I want all of the hot details from last night!"

I hang up in response before placing the phone back onto my nightstand and throwing the covers off of my body. The only _details_ from last night I want to discuss are about Scott's werewolf situation, but that's out of the question. After Stiles had filled me in on everything that I'd missed, which was surprisingly a lot for such a short amount of time I was without the duo that is Scott and Stiles, we decided to do whatever it takes to keep Scott in control. Even if that meant going to Derek for help.

Speaking of, I owed Derek a huge thank-you for saving my twin's ass last night. It also reinforced my theory of Derek being a good guy, despite the alarming evidence that proved otherwise.

"Where are you going?" Stiles asks while throwing an arm around my thighs; locking me in place.

"Out with Lydia," I answer while attempting to pull out of his grip. "Now let go, I need to get ready."

"Don't leave," he whines while moving over so he can lay his head on my lower abdomen. "Please."

Heart palpitations _cannot_ be good this early in the morning.

"I need to look for a dress," I sigh while gently scratching the top of Stiles' head soothingly; internally relishing in the tingling feeling on the pads of my fingers caused by his buzzed hair.

"What for?" Stiles mumbles curiously while nuzzling my stomach cutely.

"Winter Formal," I answer.

"You should go with me," Stiles says while looking up to me out from under his eyelashes.

"What?" I question incomprehensibly with a furrowed brow.

"You should go with me to Winter Formal."

Oh my god I'm having a heart attack.

"Why don't you ask me again when you're fully awake and sure there's no one else you'd rather go with," I reply.

"There _is_ no one else I'd rather go with," Stiles assures me with a smile.

"It's weeks away," I excuse, "you could change your mind by then."

"I won't change my mind," he promises while lazily sitting up. "Please go with me?" Stiles pouts. "_Please_?"

A large smile slowly begins to take over my face, and I can't even be bothered by the fact I'd yet to brush my teeth. "You're serious?" I ask incredulously.

"Vanessa Marisol McCall," Stiles begins in a posh tone while taking my hands into his own, "will you do me the upmost honor of being my date to Winter Formal?"

"If you don't change your mind by then," I begin with a euphoric smile, "yes."

"Sweet!" he cheers before kissing my cheek sloppily. "Now get out of here; I'm tired."

I throw my head back with laughter and get to my feet before exiting my room; closing the door gently behind me.

**Author's Note!**

**Okay so this isn't one of my favorites, it's kind of a filler, but next chapter will be much better! I'll be introducing a friendship you guys won't be expecting, nearly ending the one between Vanessa and Allison, and lots of Derek Drama!**

**I tried to add a little excitement with the whole Jacob Smalls thing. I'm trying to show that both Vanessa's **and **Stiles' feelings are growing for each other. Don't expect them to be official or anything though… I don't think that's going to happen at all during this season or season two. Rest assured there will be romance between them, though!**

**My chapters are slowly but surely getting longer, so I hope ya'll are happy!**

**Also, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a few days! I did a lot of work for Christmas and my new living room furniture was delivered the day before Christmas Eve so my family had to rearrange everything while finishing wrapping up presents and cooking the meals and ugh it was chaotic!**

**How was all of your holidays? Let me know in the comments! And let me know how you're liking my story!**


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Well don't you look… casual," Lydia observes with a sneer as I step into the passenger's side of her borrowed car.

"Why am I friends with you, again?" I question rhetorically while fastening my seat belt.

"Because we're both pretty and pretty people stick together."

"I hate you so much."

"So what color are you thinking for your formal dress?" Lydia changes topic expertly while shifting the car into reverse.

"I don't know," I reply. "Green, maybe?"

I watch as her nose scrunches in disapproval. "We'll just look when we get there."

"What about you?"

"Pearl, maybe pink."

"We'll just look when we get there," I respond snarkily; making her laugh in appreciation.

"Anyway," Lydia begins pointedly, "what X-Rated shenanigans did you and Stiles get into last night?"

"All of them," I answer dryly before ducking her swung hand. "I'm kidding! Geez, calm down. Nothing, Stiles and I are just friends."

"Is there a 'but' to look forward to?"

"Actually," I begin with a wide smile, "he asked me to the formal."

"Well you two are dating," Lydia says in a 'duh' tone. "Of course you're going together."

"_Lydia_," I groan exasperatedly, "we aren't dating!"

"Why do you keep saying that?" she asks in frustration.

"Because it's the truth!"

Her blue-green-grey eyes glance to me for a moment, and her face turns pensive for a moment. "Oh," Lydia says smartly. "Well, that's not acceptable."

"Tell me about it," I sigh; not really meaning to say the words out loud.

"So what's your plan?"

"My plan for what?"

"Well he's obviously already in love with you," Lydia rolls her eyes in irritation, "so how are you going to get him to ask you out and make it official?"

"Stiles is _not_ in love with me," I deny sternly as the Haven Mall comes into view. "Besides, there's a lot going on in my life right now."

"Like what?" she questions disbelievingly.

I can't tell her about Scott's predicament, so I instead open up about my dad's expectancy. "Ingrid's pregnant," I sigh sadly.

"Oh," Lydia breathes. "Nessa I'm so sorry." The sincere tone of Lydia's voice reminds me of why I put up with her. Lydia may be shallow and petty and vain but she's a good person at heart, and even though she doesn't showcase her good side often she really was there for me when my parents got divorced. "Well are they getting married?"

My heart clenches painfully at the thought. "I don't know."

Lydia pulls easily into a parking space right next to a main entrance and shifts the gear into park. "Well have you even talked to your dad?" the blonde asks while turning to face me.

"Nope," I answer with a shrug of my shoulders before unfastening my seatbelt.

"Well," Lydia begins while mirroring my actions, "they should at least wait until Ingrid loses the baby fat. Lord knows she's bigger than a house already."

Gotta love Lydia.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I hate you," I whine while trailing after Lydia who, despite her numerous shopping bags and freaking _heels_, has a pep in her step.

"Quit complaining," my shorter friend snaps while leading me towards the cafeteria, "we're taking a break now, anyway."

"How very generous of you," I respond sarcastically with a roll of my eyes.

It was nearing one o'clock now, and we'd been going none stop. I used the credit card Dad had given me last birthday, which remained untouched until today, to pay for everything after prompting from Lydia. 'It'll be like punishment!' she'd grinned, and punishment it was. The 600 dollar bill I had racked up wouldn't really damage my father's finances, he's an accountant that does so well his weekly salary is nearly as much as my mom makes all month, but it still felt good.

We hit all of the expected stores; Forever 21, Steve Madden, H&M, Guess, Cotton On, J. Crew, Brandy Melville, and even Victoria's Secret. 'To give Stiles an extra push,' Lydia had said while shoving bralettes into my flushing face. I still bought them, though. Despite my false sense of rebellion (fuck you, Dad!) and happy purchases I was still border lining miserable. Not only had I come up empty for a Formal dress, but my feet were absolutely _screaming_ in protest.

"Get me whatever you're having," I order while collapsing into a nearby chair. "I'm not moving until it's to go home."

Lydia rolls her eyes and sets down her bags beside my messily dumped ones before nodding in agreement. "Fine, I'll be back in a sec."

I watch with pleased eyes as she approaches a Chinese window, although it isn't surprising. We go on shopping trips once every few months and this is all-but routine now. It's nice to have girl time, and as much as I love my boys there are just some things I can't talk to them about.

For example: Stiles. It was practically all we discussed today. How to get him to like me. How to tell if he _does _like me. What I should do about my feelings for him. Lydia had rather liked my wait-until-the-end-of-term-before-confessing-if-he-doesn't-first idea, which was comforting. We chatted a bit about my brother and Allison's budding relationship, and although I tried not to sound too sour I couldn't help but strongly disapprove. No matter how much I liked Allison her family was out to kill my brother, and that was something I wouldn't allow. I wanted her as far away from Scott as possible. Not only does she, theoretically, cause a shift but her family has been hunting werewolves for centuries, meaning sooner (if she hadn't begun already) or later she would be too. If Scott ever told her about his secret he would be as good as dead. I had absolutely no faith in Allison to do otherwise.

If Lydia had picked up on my sudden distaste she didn't say anything. That was another good thing about Lydia; she didn't like to talk badly about friends, and if you spoke poorly of someone close to her she'd shut you up so fast your head would spin.

I wordlessly lip-synced to Are We All We Are? by P!nk which had begun playing distractedly while fiddling with the napkin dispenser beside me just for something to do.

"Chicken teriyaki with white rice," Lydia announces while placing a tray in the center of our table. "You owe me seven dollars."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The rest of my weekend passed uneventfully despite for the fight that broke out between me and my twin. I decided to make my disapproval for Allison known; something that, as I'm sure you can guess, didn't go well; there was a lot of shouting, a few thrown objects, and tears streaking down my cheeks by the time it was over, but it hadn't resulted in any changes. In fact, Scott and I weren't speaking now; meaning I would be walking to school this morning.

Awesome.

Because of this, I had to wake up an hour earlier and take a shower the night before just to get to school early enough to avoid my twin. I could ask Stiles to pick me up, but not only would that inadvertently put him in the middle of my and Scott's argument, my house is completely out of his way.

And so here I am; drinking my hot cocoa just to stay relatively warm while trekking towards the school while fuming silently over my idiot of a brother.

I mean, who the hell does he think he is? Does he not realize that this whole werewolf thing affects _everyone_? What if Mr. Argent really was the one to kill Laura Hale? I mean, that is what a hunter _does_. And what's stopping the Argents from doing the same to Scott? With his short fuse, lacrosse games, and refusal to accept help from Derek, what the hell does he think is going to happen? I'm really starting to get fed up with Scott's bullshit; that's for sure.

"Vanessa?" a hesitant and soft voice calls out from my left; making me jump in surprise.

I turn to face my fellow trotter before smiling brightly in recognition. "Erica!" I greet cheerfully. "Good morning!"

"Morning," the blonde replies shyly while shrinking into her oversized coat. "How was your weekend?"

"Long," I answer with a laugh. She smiles in amusement but doesn't make a peep. "How about you?"

"Uneventful," Erica responds softly with a melancholy expression.

"Well we should go to Barnes and Noble this Friday," I suggest. "It's been a while since we've have a coffee date."

I'd known Erica since grade three when we were seated side by side in Mr. Fricki's classroom, and we'd been friends ever since. We weren't very close, not that I didn't try, but I think she found me a little overbearing at times. With a meek personality like Erica's I wouldn't be surprised. She was still really nice, if but a little quiet. That's okay though; I could talk enough for both of us.

Our common ground was literature. She's in my Creative Writing class, actually, and she always has the best work. We're usually editing partners. Every once in a while we go out and get a beverage at the Starbucks end of Barnes and Noble before getting some books and chat idly about this and that. It was really nice, actually; soothing.

"Yeah," Erica accepts with a wide grin. "I'd like that."

A thought hits me and I look to the blonde calculatingly. "Erica, would it be alright if I sat with you during lunch today?"

"Sure," she nods. "Can I ask why?"

I grimace before diplomatically answering, "Scott and I got into a pretty nasty fight yesterday. Hence the whole walking thing."

"Ah," Erica nods in understanding. "Sorry to hear."

I wave off her apology dismissively. "Don't worry. I'm sure it'll work itself out. We're just… disagreeing on something right now."

"I've got to head to my locker," Erica begins apologetically as we enter the school, "but I'll see you in Writing."

"See you!" I call after the shy girl; happy there weren't a lot of students in the halls as to embarrass her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I ignored Allison during English, breezed past her and the others during lunch, and nearly went the whole day without drama or incident until the very end of the day.

That is, until I saw a very sickly looking Derek Hale pinning Jackson against a row of lockers by the neck.

"What's going on?" I demand angrily while storming up to the pair. My eyes widen when I notice Derek had pierced Jackson with his claws; which the werewolf retracts on my arrival before taking a step back.

"Nothing," he answers in a terse voice. "Just teaching this kid some _manners_."

"Are you alright?" I ask Jackson in (surprising) concern.

"Fine," the lacrosse star snaps while glaring down into my eyes. "But you should tell your brother not tell his dealers where he goes to school."

I don't even have time to deny Jackson's assumption because he's already down the hall and turning the corner.

"Are you fucking crazy?" I snap while spinning my heel to glare at Derek; only to find an empty hall behind me.

Shit.

I quickly pull my phone out from my back pocket and dial my brother's number. The phone rings twice before he forwards me to voicemail, which makes me snarl with rage while exiting the school at a brisk pace.

I _really_ hate Scott right now.

Luckily I spot Stiles' Jeep in the parking lot, and so I break out into a sprint towards it; ignoring the curious stares I was getting. My adrenaline and heart was pumping loud in my ears as a feeling of pure… _fear_ flooded my weird six-sense.

I reached the driver's side window just a moment before Derek suddenly appeared and collapsed just in front of the Jeep's grill.

Oh shit.

**Author's Note!**

**Dun! Dun! It's not really a cliff hanger since I'm assuming you've all watched the show but… yeah! I promised another chapter and I'm delivering. Maybe I'll even post again later (probably).**

**The mystery friend was Erica! Since I don't like her character in the actual show Teen Wolf I figured I might as well make her into something likeable in my story!... for now, that is. Boy, do I have plans.**

**What's Vanessa going to do about Stiles? Lydia's finally believed the fact that they aren't dating, but she's definitely going to be elbow deep in matchmaking!**

**There wasn't any Stiles in this chapter, which I think is both a good and bad thing. Good because Vanessa's life **does not **revolve around Stiles, despite the fact he's often on her mind, and bad because… well, there was **no Stiles in this chapter.

**Leave reviews, I love hearing from you!**

**Also:**

**Chapps- Thank you for saying I deserve more reviews! I can see I have quite a few thousand views on this story and per chapter, and although it disappoints me more people don't leave reviews I'm still very thankful for the ones I get! I'm glad to hear your holidays went well. As for as conflicts; how do you feel about Vanessa and Scott's argument? I'm kind of unintentionally writing Scott as an antagonist in this story, but I can't help it! In the show he's just so infuriating! There's going to be a blow-out between Vanessa and her twin once Scott starts treating Stiles badly. Vanessa's completely against Scott and Allison's relationship, and so when the sheriff gets hit by the car all hell will break loose. Stiles is definitely going to have some white-knight moments; don't worry! I'm just waiting for the opportunity to arise. Vanessa will obviously chew him out for it though, lol. She'll also be having fight scenes of her own! There's going to be a serious health kick for Vanessa coming soon. As her premonitions grow worse as time goes on she'll have the need to prepare for battle, so although she'll never have the strength of a werewolf she'll be able to take care of herself (somewhat). Thank you for your suggestions, and I hope I won't let you down!**

**Cheergeeek101- I tried to PM you but you have that disabled so I hope you don't mind I'm replying to your review this way! Thanks for the kind words, and ugh how can anyone NOT love Stiles? He's my favorite character in any fandom ever. Sarcastic, cute, hyper, nice, and loving? Ugh, even his twitching is cute. Keep reviewing and reading!**


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

I knocked frantically on Stiles' window for a moment, and he turned to look at me with wide surprised eyes. I could read that he mouthed _'What the fuck?'_ but we didn't have time for questions being as I'm pretty sure Derek Hale just dropped dead in the middle of the school parking lot.

I rounded the car and knelt down beside the sickly man as my twin, Asshole: Wolf Wonder, cut through the growing crowd. Stiles exited the Jeep; slamming the car door behind him loudly as I hesitantly reached out to lay my hand on Derek's shoulder. In response the older werewolf's eyes flashed neon blue and he let out an involuntary growl. I was used to this kind of behavior, though; and in Derek's condition Scott could do much worse.

"What the hell is going on?" my twin questions angrily as I attempt to haul Derek into a seated position. The young man's eyes flash again, and Scott's eyes widen in alarm. "Stop that!"

"I can't," Derek snaps through clenched teeth.

"Stiles help me get him in the Jeep," I order while trying (futilely) to pull Derek to his feet.

"What?" Stiles yelps. "No, nu-uh. Not happening."

I turn my gaze away from Derek and glare up at Stiles in anger. "Scott needs him alive, not dead. So shut up _help me_." Together Stiles and I pull Derek to his feet. "What the hell happened?" I ask the injured werewolf.

"The Argents shot me," Derek answers in a gruff tone.

"But don't you heal like, super-fast?"

"It was with a special bullet," he responds as Stiles and I haul him into the back seat.

"A silver bullet?" Stiles questions with alarming excitement.

Derek growls in pain and annoyance as he sets his flashing eyes on Stiles. I immediately put a hand on Stiles' chest and push him backward; not at all liking Derek's threatening gaze.

"Calm down," I order as my heart begins to beat erratically. My body is going into fight or flight mode and as of right now I'm torn between the two.

Goddam, why can't I just have a normal Monday?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I rubbed my eyes tiredly while pushing my Chemistry homework off of my lap and onto the floor. The image of Peter Hale's scarred profile was permanently burned into my retinas. Every time I closed my eyes his face was there looking stoically at the wall and reminding me just how dangerous the Argents really are. There was no doubt in my mind someone from Allison's family was behind the unwarranted massacre, and my heart ached for the lone survivors.

Today have been crazy, but I was glad it happened. We had gotten insight into Derek; why he acted the way he did, why he distrusted all of us, and why he was desperate to get Scott to join him. He had lost everything, and Scott was the closest thing to a pack Derek had now. I wanted more than anything for my brother to join him, but Scott was just so blinded by his feelings for Allison that he couldn't see anything beyond them.

It was safe to say my twin and I still hadn't made up. I also wasn't planning on speaking to Allison anytime soon. It was unfair of me, sure, but I was sticking to my guns on this. It just sucked that I would inadvertently be avoiding Stiles, Lydia, and Danny as well.

A few knocks sounded out from my door; catching my attention and pulling me from my deep thought.

"Come in," I call softly; not at all liking the depressed tone of my voice.

Mom's petite head popped out from behind my door as she opened it, and I immediately smile at the sight of her beaming face. God, I missed her.

"Hey sweetie," Mom greets wile entering the room with laundry of mine in hand. "How's it going?"

I watch as she sets the small pile of sweaters on my bureau while my smile slides slowly off of my face. "Not too good," I answer sadly. "Me and Scott are fighting."

"What about?" she questions with motherly concern while taking a seat beside me on the bed.

"Allison," I sigh. "She's not good for him, Mom."

Her brow skyrockets in surprise. "She seemed nice enough to me."

I shake my head in denial. "She's dangerous," I insist.

Mom chuckles softly. "She doesn't _look_ dangerous."

"Neither did Dad," I snap before instantly regretting it. "Sorry," I apologize softly. "I just don't want to see him get hurt." Or worse.

"You're a good sister, Vanessa," Mom assures me while placing her nimble hands on my shoulders, "but sometimes you have to let people make mistakes on their own."

"Even if you know things will end badly?" I ask with a sniffle.

"Even if you know things will end badly," Mom confirms with a firm nod. I allow her to pull me into an embrace and return it with childlike desperation.

"How do you do it?" I ask in a thick voice. "How do you deal with everything? Dad, Ingrid, all of it?"

She runs a hand comfortingly down my back before saying, "I have great kids. It makes it easy."

"I love you, Mom," I cry. It's the first time I'd said the three word phrase aloud since my parents divorced two years ago, and Mom freezes for a moment in shock before squeezing the air out of my lungs.

"I love you too," she replies before pulling away and wiping her tearing eyes. "That's enough sap for tonight," Mom says while getting to her feet; making me laugh and nod in agreement. "Now clean up this room and get to bed; it's late."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The rest of the school week passed… well, it passed.

Scott and I ignored each other for the most part, and we were officially in the longest lasting fight we'd even had. I continued to eat lunch with Erica, which more often than not turned into a study session since our AP English classes were both reading The Great Gatsby. It was fun spending time with the blonde. I could be unapologetically nerdy over iambic pentameter, and after unintentionally making a Nerdfighter reference that she caught we realized we had found another John and Hank Green fangirl in each other.

Still, as much fun as it was to nerd out with Erica, I missed Stiles. I missed my brother too of course, but I wasn't actually _mad_ at Scott. Stiles was just caught in the crossfire, which was unfair to both of us. And so we made the plans to have a movie night at my house once Erica and I finished up at Barnes and Noble.

And so here I am, walking into Blockbuster in search of Struck By Lightning (my choice, obviously) because tonight I wanted to have all of the feels and have them be induced by Chris Colfer.

I enter the store and a bell signals my entrance, but instead of the happy greeting the store manager Henry usually throws my way (the nineteen year old has been crushing on me since my middle school days, and despite how creepy he could be it was totally endearing) I was instead shouted at by Jackson of all people.

"Get out of here!" he screams. "Get help! Run!"

I meet his panicked eyes with curiosity while taking in the scene before me. Shelves are turned over and locking him in place on the carpeted floor. He's terrified; that much is obvious, but by what? What's going on?

"Jackson what's-?"

"Get out of here before it-!"

A large black wolf with glowing eyes suddenly darts out from behind the checkout counter and barrels towards me; its snout pulled into a snarl while a long and daunting growl fills the air. The shriek I release is involuntary. My instincts are screaming at me to _run! Get out of here! Get away!_ but I can't. My body has gone rigid and stiff, and I feel helpless as the beast grows near.

I immediately recognize that it's a werewolf. Its upper body is identical to how Laura looked before Scott removed the Wolfsbane, meaning like Laura, this wolf was different. It's eyes lit a sinister red that shook me to my very core. _I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move._

But then, all of a sudden, I was moving. Airborne, actually. The impact was hard, and the blow to my head was even harder. Fragments of glass rained down over me as the wolf propelled both it and myself out of a large window which served as a wall. While I fell onto my back it continued on; leaving me in a painful daze. Shards left miniscule but burning cuts on nearly every inch of my arms while I could feel a sizable fragment of glass had embedded itself partially into the skin on my upper right hairline; just beside the start of my temple. A piercing scream filled the air, and I recognized the voice as Lydia's, but I couldn't bring myself to look around to see if she was alright.

The next thing I know I'm seated on the back of an ambulance getting fragments of glass removed from my skin; hearing _pings_ as the bloodied shards are dropped into a pail beside the vaguely familiar paramedic.

"I think she's snapping out of it," the medical personnel says to Sheriff Stilinski, who I now only just noticed. The next thing my hazy brain registers is the heavy blanket draped around my shoulders and the blinding flashing lights bouncing off of every remotely reflective object.

Had I gone into shock? When had they arrived? What happened?

"Vanessa," Stiles' dad begins slowly; as if talking to a very small and very spooked child.

"Sheriff?"

Why is my voice so rough? Are those tears dripping from my chin? When did I start to cry? Had I been the whole time?

"It's me," the sheriff reassures with a smile laced with fatherly concern. "Are you alright, sweetie?"

I blink rapidly at him in confusion, nearly in time with the _plunks_, and focus closely on the shape of his eyes, curve of his cupid's bow, and curve of his brows. "I want Stiles," I announce suddenly as my heart begins to race rapidly in my chest. "I want Stiles," I repeat; this time addressing the paramedic in an oddly high-pitched tone. "Someone get me Stiles!" I order while pulling my arm out of the baby-faced man's gloved hands.

I want Stiles. It's all I can think about. I want Stiles, and I am scared, and I am confused, and I _want Stiles_.

My breathing is hitched as I jerk away from the paramedic who reaches out to touch me once more. "No!" I sob while shaking my throbbing head frantically. I jump down from the ambulance's floor and trip into the sheriff as confused tears fall fast and hot down my cheeks. "Where is he?" I ask desperately. "I want Stiles! I want Stiles! Please- I- please, I-I can't-!"

"Let me through! Dad, Vanessa!"

My eyes snap towards the boy I'd just been asking for, and as I take in his father's cupids bow, curve of his brow, and shape of his eyes my knees give way; nearly sending me straight to the pavement. Luckily the Sheriff is much stronger than he appears, and as he gives his men the order of allowing his son to pass he holds me upright with little struggle.

"Stiles," I whisper with a quivering lower lip as he takes me into his arms. "Stiles. Stiles. Stiles." I repeat his name over and over again like a soothing mantra while burying my contorted face into the bend of his neck. "I was so scared," I confess with a sob. "I was so scared. I couldn't move. Why couldn't I move?" I babble before breaking off into a fit of helpless sobs.

"Oh my god," he breathes while hugging me tightly to his body. "Dad, what the hell happened?"

"The store clerk was murdered," I hear Sheriff Stilinski reply, and I let out a strangled cry at the news. "It's horrible. Looks like some kind of animal did it," I feel Stiles tense and know he realized what it was, exactly. "The redhead said the animal pushed Vanessa through the window. She's got cuts everywhere, son, but she wouldn't let the paramedic touch her after she became… aware." The sheriff heaves a long sigh before continuing. "She was asking about you. She wanted you here with her."

I feel Stiles' face nuzzle the left side of my own before his breath fans over my exposed shoulder. "I'm here," he whispers gently. "I'm right here."

"I was so scared," I repeat thickly.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Stiles promises. "Never again."

"I want to go home," I say. "Please, I want to go home."

"You have to let the medic patch you up first," he responds.

"Don't leave me," I plead in embarrassing desperation.

"I won't."

**Author's Note!**

**I'm a horrible person for not posting sooner; I know. I had promised two in one day, but I'm only a few minutes past midnight so does this count? I hope you guys aren't too mad! I decided to have a social life for once… but believe me when I say all I did was think about this story.**

**How did you like this chapter? There was some excitement, Stiles, and a touching Mommy and Me moment between Melissa and Vanessa!**

**Vanessa's finally starting to break down the walls she's built around herself! This will be happening slowly but surely throughout this story, and eventually lead to, as my description promises, Stinessa. Yay, character developments!**

**Melissa's words of wisdom may not have seemed to have made an impact on Nessa in this chapter, but with her emotional distress and need for comfort they'll definitely come into play next chapter! Hopefully this will end the feud between Vanessa and Scotty… we'll see.**

**The Night School episode is coming up quick! I can't wait for my favorite Stiles Stilinski line to come up…**

**Stiles: No! Do you want to hear it in Spanish? Noh.**

**Speaking of everyone's (mine) favorite character; was Vanessa's need for him a little too much? I didn't think really think so. Whether Vanessa wants to admit it or not, she's dependent on him. Stiles is her rock, just like she's his. (You'll see an example of that soon. Hint: it has to do with Stiles' mom! It won't be for a few chapters though… sorry.) Stiles makes her feel safe, and so when confusion, fear, and helplessness hit Vanessa he was obviously the person she wanted by her side. Plus his dad being in her face sparked the idea.**

**Review, review, review!**

**Chapps- I respond to all of my reviewers! I want you guys to know that I hear you, your suggestions, and compliments! Vanessa and Derek's relationship will be… complicated, to say the least. I debated making them friends-ish for a while, but decided they should be… allies, I guess? They both want the same thing; that is, what's good for Scott, and to get Laura (and all of the Hales, really) justice. Vanessa's missing Lydia big time right now, but with their shared Alpha scare they'll definitely buddy up again. And with Melissa's words ringing in Vanessa's head, an Allison/Vanessa makeup is right around the corner! They weren't in an established fight like Vanessa and Scott had been, but the female McCall had given Allison the cold shoulder all week! That was something someone would notice! Apologies will be made, but when, where, and how are for me to know and you to… well, you get it! I'm flattered that I'm becoming one of your favorite authors on this site; that's a huge compliment! You're a favorite reviewer of mine; always so thought out and kind! I'm a sophomore too, and although this isn't a character insert what I deal with emotionally and personally make huge impacts on State Of Grace. My parents are divorced as well, which is why I really wanted the divorce a large part of this story. I wanted to make Vanessa honest and flawed, and I hope I'm doing a good job.**

**Whew, that was a lot! I'll see you guys next time!**


	20. Chapter 18

**Fanfiction has been really glitchy lately so this is my second time uploading this chapter. I've gotten four PMs and one review saying they couldn't view this new chapter so I hope this time it posts! If there are any other situations like this please feel free to message me/leave comments.**

**Chapter Eighteen**

Stiles drove me home and since Mom was leaving for work when we arrived (she would arrive late due to the ten minutes she spent fussing over me) and Scott was M.I.A. he decided to spend the night. I was thankful for it, and hugged him with embarrassing vigor before we washed up and got ready for bed.

I always knew Stiles was a good person, he's just nice by nature, but his concern for me was just so _genuine_ it was heartwarming. He let me cling onto him without complaint; cry on his shoulder while he whispered comforting words in my ear and held me when I began to shake with fright due to an unannounced thunderstorm. It was… nice. I couldn't help but wonder if he would have done this when he tried (God, did Stiles try) to be there for me when my mom and dad split. I really wished I had just let him in then. Maybe things would be different now.

"Vanessa!" my twin shouted while suddenly bursting through my bedroom door; making me jump and cringe into Stiles' chest with fright.

"Scott," I exhale after coming to my senses and sitting up in bed. "Where have you been?" I'm shocked when he, instead of answering my question, crosses the room and tackles me into a tight hug. I return the embrace despite my sore body's protest because it feels so good to be close to my brother again. We've been together since the womb and these past couple of days have been… hard, to say the least.

"Are you alright?" Scott asks urgently while backing up slightly and holding me at arm's length. His eyes scan my body to injury but my pajamas cover up any sign of damage.

"Somewhat," I answer with a wavering smile.

Scott pulls me in for another hug, and I'm assuming addresses his next words to Stiles. "Thanks for taking care of her," he says.

I feel the bed shift as Stiles sits up. "Where were you?" he asks curiously.

"With Derek," my twin replies as we separate.

My eyes widen and brow rises in shock. "Since when do you hang out with Derek?"

"Since I realized you were right," Scott sighs while adjusting his position to make himself comfortable. "We need his help."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" I question incredulously.

"That thing that attacked you tonight was the werewolf that bit me," Scott begins grimly. "It's called an alpha. Me and Derek are its betas."

"Wait," I interrupt unapologetically, "does that mean you two have some of wolf-alliance with him? Like, because you're both apart of its pack?"

"Yeah," my twin sighs. "Derek thinks that's why I'm so… aggressive with you, Nessa. He said it's because the alpha wants me to separate myself from my own pack."

"You mean from me and Stiles," I elaborate tensely.

"Yeah," Scott nods sadly. "Vanessa I'm so sorry for the way I've been-"

"No, no," I dismiss with a shake of my head. "No, it's not you who's doing it. It's okay. I shouldn't have tried to control your life. If you want to be with Allison that's…" I grimace but manage to get the words out, "that's your choice to make."

"As glad as I am you two aren't fighting anymore," Stiles cuts in, "but what are we going to do about the alpha?"

"That's what Derek needs me for," Scott answers. "He said we can only kill the alpha together; that he isn't strong enough to do it himself."

"And how much of a risk does that put you in?" I ask in concern.

"I don't know," Scott sighs, "but we can't just let the alpha continue killing innocent people."

"And does Derek have any idea who the alpha is?" Stiles asks.

"No," my brother answers with a shake of his head.

"We'll figure something out," I say while taking both boys' hands in my own. "Together."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Before I knew it, it was Monday. There hadn't been any news from Derek regarding the alpha, and so the weekend was relatively quiet as for as the supernatural goes. On the other hand, I had heard from my father which was… something. I didn't actually pick up the phone when he called, nor did I listen to the voicemail he left, but Scott had talked to him for a few minutes simply to reassure our dad that I was, relatively, fine. Apparently Mom had told him about what happened Friday night and he was *cough bullshit cough* _worried_.

After struggling to get myself ready for the day and skipping my hot chocolate Stiles picked my brother and I up from school. He said he didn't want me getting hurt on the bike when I was banged up enough as it is. The notion was sweet, and he was rewarded with a chaste kiss on the cheek that had us both blushing the whole car ride.

The school day was shaping up to be long. All of the walking was painful; my back screamed in protest every time I stood or sat from or into a chair, and even walking was beginning to be a chore. Danny and Erica were kind enough to help carry my books since my backpack was out of the question and I was developing a limp, but all of the stares and whispers that followed me were getting on my nerves. On top of that, Lydia was nowhere to be found. Allison and Scott went missing as well, and when I called to ask where they were their phones went straight to voicemail.

I hoped to God Scott's present to Allison was not birthday sex, because we _really _couldn't afford to have little half-werewolf half-hunter babies running around.

"Tardiness is not tolerated Ms. McCall," Mr. Harris snaps as I enter limp into his classroom two minutes late.

All eyes are on me and I try my hardest not to just collapse right then and there. Since I'd decided to spend lunch in the nurse's office icing my back and ignoring her prompts to be picked up from school (Mom had work and we needed the money since Dad's been skipping out on child-support payments) I had to carry my books solo; something that felt like a very strenuous task. Luckily, knowing I was going to Lucifer's class I asked the Mrs. Greene for a tardy slip, which I victoriously slapped into Mr. Harris' left hand on the walk to my seat.

"It is with a pass, Mr. Harris," I quipped before, quite literally, collapsing into my seat.

"I'll be seeing you at the parent-teacher conference tonight, Ms. McCall," Mr. Harris snaps while glaring at me with poorly masked hatred.

My jaw drops in shock. "But I'm acing your class," I protest.

"Your mother and I need to have a conversation about your mouth," the teacher scowls before addressing the class as a whole. "To everyone else; it is mandatory that all students with an average of C- or lower attend tonight's meetings with their parents. I won't name any names because the shame and self-disgust should be punishment enough. Now," Mr. Harris looms over Stiles, who (bless him) is so immersed in highlighting nearly every word in today's reading doesn't even notice, and places his hands on his hips importantly. "Has anyone seen Scott McCall?"

No one gets the chance to respond because Jackson enters the room; catching everyone's attention. He looks a bit frightened, actually, despite the steeled gaze he shoots everyone with, and for once I don't want to beat his face in. I know exactly what he's going through. Although no one knew exactly what happened Friday night, everyone knew Jackson, Lydia, and I were involved. I was really starting to wish I'd, like Lydia, taken the easy way out.

He takes his seat and, to my annoyance, Mr. Harris approaches him with concern. "Jackson," Mr. Harris begins while lying a hand on said teen's shoulder, "if you need to leave early for any reason, you let me know."

It takes everything in me not to through my Chemistry textbook right at Lucifer's ugly mug. I get penalized for being two minutes late, punished for a response that wasn't even _bad_, and Jackson gets fucking _concern_? Fuck this guy.

"Everyone," Mr. Harris announces while pulling away from Jackson and strutting towards the front of the room, "start reading chapter nine. And Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's Chemistry, not a coloring book."

_Seriously_, fuck this guy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We need to go check on Lydia," I announce as Stiles helps me into my coat. "Find out what she saw, how she's doing. I'm worried about her."

"Do you need your books?" Stiles asks while reaching up towards them.

"No," I answer. "So," I prompt, "Lydia?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Lydia," Mrs. Martin calls while knocking on her daughter's bedroom door, "Vanessa and Stiles are here to see you!" The middle-aged woman opens the door and nods for Stiles and I to go in.

"My favorite couple!" Lydia greets, and I notice there's an odd slur to her words.

"We gave her a little something to calm her nerves," Mrs. Martin smiles at my accusing glare directed her way. "Have fun."

I ignore Lydia's mom as she exits the room and shuts the door behind her, and instead focus on her obviously drugged daughter. It's strange to see Lydia this way; in her pajamas, lounging about without a spec of makeup on and her hair naturally straight and limp. She smiles deliriously up at me and Stiles before patting the free space next to her on the bed.

"Hey Lydi," I say softly; using her childhood nickname.

"Heeey," Lydia giggles. "What are you doing here?"

"We were just making sure you're okay," I answer.

Her face pulls into a confused expression and she licks her lips a few times; a sign of cotton mouth from taking too many of her mother's pills. "Why?"

"We were just worried about you," I say before craning my neck to address Stiles. "Could you give me that cup of water?" I ask while pointing to said object on Lydia's desk. "Thanks," I smile after he hands it to me. "Here you go," I say while helping Lydia sit up properly to take a sip.

"You're so nice," Lydia compliments while flopping back onto her pillows and raising a hand to my face.

"No I'm not," I deny with a smile. "We both know that."

She giggles and nods her head in agreement. "Yeah, you're a bitch."

Once her laughter subsides I place the now empty cup of water onto her nightstand and swat her probing hand away. "Lydi, I want to talk to you about something, okay?"

Her brow furrows and she looks between me and Stiles for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

"You know I was there Friday night, right?" I ask hesitantly; unsure of how to start this conversation.

"Yeah," Lydia nods sadly. "I saw you get thrown out the window… I thought you died."

Stiles tenses beside me but I simply swallow and pay him no mind. "What else did you see that night, Lydia?"

"Why do you want to know?" the strawberry blonde questions with a shrill edge to her tone.

"Because I want to make sure whatever hurt me doesn't hurt anybody else," I answer while placing my hands on her shoulders.

Lydia nods at my response. "Okay," she sighs. "Okay. I saw…" her eyes turn glassy and they are overcome with a faraway look. "I saw…"

"You saw what, Lydi?" I push as gently as I can.

"I saw…" she blinks up at me; coming back to reality, "I saw a mountain lion."

"Are you sure?" Stiles asks. "Are you sure you saw a mountain lion or did the police _say_ you saw a mountain lion?"

"I saw a mountain lion," Lydia repeats; firmly this time. She has so much conviction in her tone I nearly believe her myself.

"Lydia," I begin while grabbing the giraffe beanie baby sitting on her nightstand, "what's this?"

She eyes the stuffed animal for a moment before meeting my gaze once more. "A mountain lion," she answers with a sure nod of her head.

"Right," I sigh while lowering the beanie baby and turning to look at Stiles, "a mountain lion."

We lock gazes for a moment, and I contemplate whether Lydia's false remembrance is a good or bad thing. I _know_ she knows what she saw was not a cougar, but logic is telling her otherwise; leaving her confused and doped up on anti-anxiety meds. It was infuriating, and just really, really sad.

"Will you stay with me?" Lydia asks; making me give her my attention once more. "Just until I fall asleep."

"Of course," I smile while grabbing the spare blanket lying beside her before draping it over her body.

"You're a good friend, Vee-Vee," Lydia yawns. "Love you."

I smile sadly down at her for a moment; slightly taken aback by the use of _my_ childhood nickname. "You too, Lydi," I whisper, and just like that she's out like a light.

_Buzz! Buzz!_

I snatch Lydia's phone up from her nightstand and glance at her quickly to make sure it hadn't woken her up. I look down to the screen and read _(1) New Picture Message from Blocked Number_. Curiously I open the attachment and let out a gasp when the pixels stabilize and reveal a picture of the alpha.

**Author's Note!**

**Guys I'll be replying to all comments after every chapter in an author's note since it's come to my attention that most of you don't check your private messages!**

**Cheergeeek101- Thank you for the kinds words, and don't worry there will be many chapters to come!**

**Gamerkid137- I'm glad you like my story! Please continue to review.**

**Ohsolauren- I don't know if you've checked your PMs or not since I haven't gotten a reply but I've sent messages for every review you've left. I just want to thank you for always leaving comments and if you could I'd love it if you checked to see what I wrote being as I don't exaclt remember. From now on though you'll be able to find my replies at the end of each chapter!**

**Ellie.M.D- I'm happy to hear you love my story and Stinessa! Keep reviewing to tell me what you think!**

**Fluffyfluffyboomboom- The new chapter is here, obviously! I'm glad you love the story; thanks!**

**Cherry0327- I definitely recommend making an account even if you don't write fanfiction. It's a lot easier to track your favorite stories and you get notifications when your favorite fics (hopefully State Of Grace will be one of them lol) updates. I'm glad you think my characters are realistic; that's really my goal. More Stinessa romance is sure to come, just hang tight until it gets here!**

**Thanks to Ohsolauren (you're such a realiable reviewer and I love it) and High Serpent King for replying to my author's note regarding Colton/Jackson! Chapter Nineteen will be up soon!**


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

I was vaguely aware of Stiles threatening my brother's life over the telephone, but I couldn't bring myself to focus on his words. Instead I stared down at Lydia's opened phone, still clutched in my hands, and into the alpha's immortalized eyes.

The picture had been taken as it was exiting the movie store, and so I was captured as well. I was sprawled out on the blacktop; my hair fanning out like a halo made of spilt chocolate and shards of glass. If I squinted I could see blood dripping from my oddly shaped arms and the whites of my eyes due to the fact I was looking up at the alpha whom was soaring above me.

"Stop torturing yourself," Stiles orders while taking Lydia's cellphone from my hands.

"Hey!" I exclaim while reaching for the phone, only for Stiles to slip it into his back pocket with a shake of his head.

"No," he denies. "I don't need you slipping into some post-traumatic stress stupor like Lydia."

I glare up at Stiles for a moment before heaving out a defeated sigh and flopping my upper body backwards and onto his bed. "When did I become so pathetic?" I question rhetorically.

Stiles joins me on the bed and meets my eyes with concern. "You're not pathetic," he says.

"You don't know what happened that night," I reply while closing my eyes and shaking my head. "I just… froze. I was too scared to move. The alpha could have killed me and I wouldn't have even fought back."

"Then fight back, Vanessa," Stiles suggests in a strong tone. I open my eyes and look to him with a confused expression, so he elaborated. "Giving up is what's pathetic, Nessa. Fight back."

The corners of my lips twitch up into a small smile at his words, and I feel suddenly inspired. I wasn't stupid enough to think I could take on the alpha, I couldn't even challenge Derek Hale, but Stiles was right… I could do _something_.

It looks like that gym membership Lydia had gotten for me last Christmas (possibly _the_ most insulting gift I'd ever received) would get some use after all.

"Thanks," I smile just before a knock sounds out on Stiles' bedroom door.

"I thought I told you to leave the door open when Vanessa's here," the sheriff says while eyeing me and his son critically.

"Sheriff we aren't dating, I swear!" I exclaim while sitting up and waving my hands with flourish. "My friend was just… confused."

"The door stays open," Mr. Stilinski states forcefully. "I may like you, Nessa, but I don't need to be on some reality TV show because my son knocked you up."

"Dad!" Stiles admonishes as my jaw drops in shock.

"Sorry," the sheriff sighs with an eye roll. "Anyway, I just wanted to talk to you about this conference tonight. Please tell me I'm going to hear good news."

"It depends on how you define 'good news'," Stiles begins nervously while taking a seat as his desk chair.

"I define it as good grades with no behavioral issues."

The sheriff's son grimaces before replying, "You might want to rethink that definition."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Scott it's me… again," I begin with an exasperated roll of my eyes. "You're supposed to be at the school right now for parent teacher conferences but you're obviously not here. Dr. Deaton said you didn't show up for work today either. Where are you? Call me back." I let my phone fall to Stiles' bed with a sigh before eyeing Stiles warily. "Did you find anything?" I question while peering over at the police files in his hands.

"Yeah," Stiles informs me with wild eyes. "Vanessa, we've been thinking this whole time the alpha's been killing innocent victims, right?"

"Right," I answer slowly; unsure where this is going.

"Well what if they aren't innocent," he says while placing documents down in front of me. "These victims are all related to the Hale house fire somehow. Look; the bus driver, the store clerk; they were both questioned during the investigation."

"So what, you're saying someone's out getting revenge?" I question with a furrowed brow.

"I'm saying," Stiles begins meaningfully, "it sure looks that way."

I run a hand through my hair and heave out a sigh before getting to my feet. "We'll look deeper into it later," I say while grabbing my coat up off of the floor. "Maybe we can get in touch with Derek or something, but the conferences are starting soon and Harris said I need to be there."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Parent/teacher conferences, or more commonly known as One of The Many School-Related Things That Make You Want To Die… yeah. Scott was nowhere to be found, his cellphone was either turned off or dead, and Mom was fuming trying to get ahold of him.

Ha. Oh well, at least I'm here.

"Where the hell are you?" Mom hisses into her cellphone after getting my twin's voicemail for the umpteenth time. "Get to the school _now_." She hangs up the phone and gives Mr. Harris an apologetic smile, which he returns tersely.

"How about we start with Vanessa?" Snape Jr. suggests.

Mom glances to me out of the corner of her eye, making me shrink in an attempt to disappear, before looking back to Lucifer with a nod of agreement. "Sure."

"Lately she's been showing signs of mood swings and disinterest," he begins. "Her grades are high but due to the fact she has nearly identical answers to Stiles Stilinski I don't think she's doing the work herself."

"My daughter and Stiles _do_, do homework together," Mom begins in a defensive tone, "but I can assure you she does the work herself; otherwise her testing scores would be much lower, wouldn't they? I mean, you did seat them on opposite sides of the classroom; or so I've heard." Go Mom. "As far as the mood swings, Vanessa is a 15 year old girl; of course she's temperamental. And with everything that's happened lately I'm sure you can't blame her."

Mr. Harris' sharp face hardens and he shifts in his seat while fixing me a glare. "Hormones do not excuse behavioral issues, Mrs. McCall. Her backtalk will not be tolerated in my classroom."

Mom narrows her eyes opening at the rude teacher before replying, "As long as she's treated fairly there shouldn't be a problem."

"Are you insinuating something, Mrs. McCall?" Harris questions.

"Miss," Mom corrects, "and perhaps we should move on to Scott."

"Scott's mind has been… absent lately, as has his body. Personally I think both Scott and Vanessa's problems have something to do with their home situation." Asshat say _what?_

"Well _personally_ I don't know what you mean by home situation," Mom replies.

"Specifically the lack of an authority figure," Mr. Harris elaborates.

"Well I'm the authority figure, so…" Mom trails off with an annoyed and forced smile accompanied by a fake chuckle.

"I mean a _male_ authority figure," Harris presses.

My and Mom's left brows twitch in unison. "Oh, well trust me we're all better off without him in the picture."

"Does Scott think so?" the Chemistry teacher questions.

I square my shoulders and speak for the first time since this meeting had started. "We all do," I say firmly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Scott you call me back _right now_!" Mom shouts into her phone as we exit the school building; fury in her tone.

I glance around the parking lot and spot my twin and Allison hiding out in Allison's car but don't point them out to my mom. Scott and I just got on good terms again, and _I_ refuse to be the one that messes it up.

"Excuse me," Mom begins while approaching Mr. Agent and, I'm assuming, Mrs. Argent, "you're Allison's parents, right?"

"Hi Mr. Argent," I greet with a polite smile, "it's nice to see you again."

"I don't mean to overstep any boundaries but Scott isn't answering his phone either and-"

"_You're_ his mother?" Mrs. Argent interrupts with a sneer on her snake-like face.

"Why does that sound like an accusation?" Mom questions while bristling at Allison's mother's tone.

"Well I hope it didn't sound like a warm greeting," Mr. Argent snaps, "being as your son practically kidnapped our daughter-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupt; not at all liking the way my mother's being treated. "If anyone kidnapped anyone it would be the person who has a _car_."

"Speaking of," Mrs. Argent begins while looking over my shoulder to Allison's vehicle as she and Scott exit it.

Mom's angry little legs move her so fast _I _can't even keep up. "And where, exactly, have _you_ been?" she questions while approaching the guilty couple.

Scott looks to me over Mom's shoulder, and although I try sending him believable lies via Twin Telepathy it doesn't work. "Uh… nowhere."

"Nowhere being not at school," Mom snaps; making Scott and Allison flinch and look to each other wide-eyed.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. McCall it's just today's my birthday and we just-" Allison's rambling is cut off by her father who struts slowly over to us with an angry expression.

"Allison," he begins, "get in the car."

A sudden shriek pierces the air; gaining everyone's attention. A large group of parents and students alike scatter; trying desperately to get away from something I can't see. Scott, with a possessed look in his eyes, begins walking towards whatever is making everyone else flee, and Allison concernedly/curiously follows.

I watch as she suddenly backs away; spooked by something not visible to me, and that feeling, the horrible one, swells inside of my chest once more. I don't know why but my eyes scan the parking lot for Mr. Stilinski in a panic. Something bad is going to happen to him; I can feel it.

"Allison!" my brother's panicked exclamation captures my attention, and I watch with wide eyes as he saves her from being hit by a speeding car. Spooked from almost hitting the teenage girl the car then reverses and back right into-

"Sheriff!" I shriek while running towards the injured man. "Stiles!" I call for his son as tears well in my eyes. "_Stiles_!" I kneel beside his father and lay a hand on the groaning man's back. "Someone call 911!" I shout frantically while scanning the older man's body to visible injuries.

"I'm okay," Sheriff Stilinski waves me off while pulling the hem of his right pants leg up; revealing a handgun.

Two loud gunshots sound off, and I hear my mom call my name but the sheriff and I simply look towards the dying mountain lion lying a few yards before us.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How's he doing today?" I question once Stiles picks up the phone.

I hear my crush sigh as I fill in the answer to an Algebra problem. "Fine," Stiles answers. "Itching to get out of the house and back to work, but y'know."

"Yeah," I reply while vigorously erasing my _so_ incorrect answer. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Nessa," he replies. I can hear the smile in his tone, which makes me smile as well. "You need to stop worrying about us."

"I can't," I say with a roll of my eyes. "It's my job. Hey, so what are you guys eating for dinner tonight?"

"I was gonna pick up some takeout," Stiles informs me in a confused tone. "Why?"

"Because I've been making chicken noodle soup like, all day today and it'll be ready soon. Wanna come by and pick some up for you and your dad? I'd drop it off but there's the whole me not knowing how to drive thing…"

"Vanessa," Stiles begins in a scolding tone, "did you make chicken-noodle soup _solely_ for me and my dad?"

I shrink into myself meekly even though he can't see me. "It's your favorite…" I say meekly in response.

"Dad!" Stiles exclaims. His voice sounds far away so I'm assuming he pulled the phone away from his ear. Okay, so _(x+36)^2 _as a trinomial is… I got nothing. "Vanessa made us soup!"

"Marry her!" I hear the sheriff shout back; which makes me snort in amusement and flush brightly.

"Planning on it!" Stiles responds before pulling his phone back up to his ear.

Oh my god, I am _literally_ having a heart attack.

"When should I come over?" he asks.

"Be here in ten," I answer after taking a moment to gather my wits.

"You're actually _the_ greatest girl," Stiles states. "Did you know that?"

"Yes," I say with false arrogance and a smile before relishing in the sound of his laughter, "but it's nice to hear it every once in a while."

"Alright, alright," Stiles chuckles, "I think I've stroked your ego enough for tonight. Get back to the math homework I'm sure you're avoiding."

"See you soon," I grin while doodling distractedly on the corner of my sheet of loose-leaf.

"See you."

I place my phone down on the kitchen table as Mom enters the room dressed in her pajamas and ready to turn in for the night.

"Ooo," she begins with a devilish smirk while sliding into the seat adjacent to me, "what's got you smiling like that?"

"Well," I begin with a surprisingly girlish giggle, "he's five foot ten, really twitchy, and his name rhymes with 'dials'."

Mom's eyes sparkle as she reaches across the table to take my left hand in her own. "I haven't seen you this happy in a long time," she says.

"I know," I reply. "It's weird but… nice. Really, really nice."

"Who would've thought," Mom begins while shaking her head incredulously. "You and Stiles."

"We aren't-" I begin to protest, only to have her finish.

"Dating," she smiles. "I know. I _also_ know there's a 'yet' tacked on to that statement."

I retract my hand from her's, roll my eyes, and futilely try to keep a smile off of my face. "He'll be over soon to pick up some soup for him and the sheriff," I inform Mom while attempting to take another crack at question fifteen.

"Speaking of," Mom begins while getting to her feet, "it smells delicious. This is Grandma McCall's recipe, right?"

"Yeah," I nod while giving up on Math and closing my text book. I watch as Mom grabs a ladle and bowl before scooping herself a large helping of soup.

"Make sure your brother unpacks all of the groceries himself," she orders. "This _is _a part of his punishment, after all."

"You're not going to eat out here?" I ask with a furrowed brow.

"Nah," Mom dismisses with a shrug of her shoulders as she approaches the staircase. "I figure I'll give you and Stiles a little alone time," she teases with a wink that makes my face warm.

"_Mom!_" I groan in embarrassment; making her throw her head back with laughter.

"Thanks for making dinner, sweetie," she says while ascending the stairs. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight!" I call after her before opening my Algebra text book once more. Goddamn, do I hate Math.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

I get to my feet and approach the front door before opening it with a closed-lipped smile. "Hey," I greet Stiles happily.

"Hey," he replies. "Nice slippers."

I look down to my cliché but totally adorable bunny slippers before playfully scowling up at him and stepping out of the doorway so he can come in. "Nice face," I retort while walking back into the kitchen.

"That smells so good," Stiles announces while leering over the simmering pot.

I search around the cabinets until I find a decently sized container suitable for Stiles and the sheriff. "Thanks," I say distractedly while beginning to ladle soup into the cylinder. "I just figured with your heater on the fritz this would be a good way to warm you guys up."

"You know," Stiles begins while leaning against the counter and looking to me intensely, "sometimes I wonder what we would do without you."

I smile and look at him out of the corner of my eye before going back to the task at hand. "Luckily you'll never have to find out," I reply earnestly before lidding the full container and holding it up in display. "There; all done."

"Thanks," Stiles smiles while taking the soup from me. "Hey, where's Scott?"

I turn the dial on the stove and cut the gas off before turning to Stiles and answering his question. "Out picking up groceries. It's part of his punishment."

"Ah," he nods in understanding. "Right."

I frown and inspect Stiles' somber expression before laying a hand on his left shoulder. "Has he called you yet?" I ask softly, even though I already knowing the answer.

"Nope," the sheriff's son replies before shrugging his shoulders with forced nonchalance. "Whatever."

"I'm sorry," I apologize as my frown deepens. "Scott can be a real idiot sometimes."

"Don't worry about it," Stiles dismisses with a smile before ducking down to kiss my cheek. "Thanks for the soup. It really is my favorite."

"No problem," I reply with heated cheeks.

"I should get going," Stiles says while angling his body towards the door.

"Yeah," I nod before following him out. "See you at school," I say with a wave.

Stiles pulls me into a warm embrace and nods in agreement. "Goodnight."

I shut the door behind him before leaning against it with a giddy smile on my face. Maybe Mom was right… maybe there really is a _yet_ attached.

**Author's Note!**

**Hey guys, I've got some news that may or may not affect this story.**

**So I have this chronic intestinal illness that likes to flare up whenever things are going right for me, which means right now I'm kind of feeling like death. I don't know how badly this flare-up is going to be or how long it'll last, but no matter what I'll be posting a new chapter at least twice a week. That's a promise I refuse to break!**

**This is my longest chapter to date, and I figured since everyone was asking for some Stinessa fluff I might as well give it to them.**

**Also I have some exciting news! Yesterday I this story had the most views in one day to date, and I hope breaking previous records for S.O.G. will become a trend! **

**Let me know what you thought in the reviews!**

**Speaking of…**

**SwaggerJagger17- First off, is your penname based off of Cher Lloyd's song Swagger Jagger? If so, I love that song, and if not; I still love that song! Lol. Anyway, I'm glad you like my story and I hope you like this chapter!**

**Cherry0327- Yay! I saw that you added State Of Grace to your favorites and I'm flattered! I'm happy you liked Chapter Eighteen and hope you like this one just as much! Continue to review and let me know!**


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

"Where the hell have you been?" I snap while getting to my feet.

Scott looks at me wide-eyed while freezing his attempt at closing the front door without noise. "What are you doing up?" he hisses in a panicked whisper.

"Waiting for you!" I answer heatedly while crossing the room to get into my twin's face. "Jesus Scott, you went out for groceries _hours_ ago! I've been worried sick! You don't answer your phone, you haven't talked to Stiles in days, and the alpha is-!"

"Shh!" Scott hushes while clamping a hand over my mouth.

I push against his chest to release myself before glaring up into his eyes. "_Don't_ touch me," I snap while folding my arms against my chest. "Now," I begin while tilting my head to look down my nose at my twin, "explain."

"I met up with Allison-"

"Oh my god!" I interrupt while throwing my hands exasperatedly in the air. "Oh my god, really Scott? _Really?_ Do you _have _a brain? If Mom finds out-"

"Scott, did you just get home? What's going on down here?"

My twin and I turn and look up to our mom wide-eyed who is looking sleepily down to us from the top of the stairs.

"Your son is an idiot," I snap before grabbing my bathrobe from the back of the couch. "I'm going to bed," I announce while beginning to ascend our flight of stairs. "Oh," I begin before turning to look at Scott over my shoulder, "you might want to call Stiles. Remember him; your best friend? The one whose dad just got hit by a car?" I force a fake laugh and smile before saying, "It's funny, you can find time for a girl you just met but not for the friend who's been there for you your whole life." I brush past Mom; not the least bit sorry I'd just hinted at where my brother had been. "Yeah," I say breezily while entering my bedroom, "real funny."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I enter the lunchroom with a scowl on my face and search the cafeteria for my brother's asymmetrical mug. I'm surprised when he and Stiles aren't seated with Lydia, Allison, and the others but instead at a secluded table but don't let it pause my brisk advance.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?" I question while slamming my Chemistry textbook down onto the table. I see Stiles look up to me from my peripheral vision but keep my eyes locked on Scott who, curiously enough, picks my discarded textbook up, opens it, and ducks behind its protection. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to walk to school this morning?" I ask while carefully taking a seat beside my best friend.

"Well after last night-" Scott begins while matching my glare, only for me to interrupt.

"I don't give a _shit _about last night," I snap through my pained grimace. "I was fifteen minutes late for first period because of my now-returned _limp_. I got shoved through a fucking window Scott, or is your head so far up Allison's ass that you forgot that too?"

A look of realization dawns on my twin's face and his back straightens at the thought. "Oh my god I'm _so_ sorry," Scott apologizes with wide eyes.

"Whoa, whoa," Stiles cuts in while laying a hand on my shoulder; catching my attention. "You walked to school today? Why didn't you call me?"

"I'm out of your way," I answer with a shake of my head. "It's fine."

"It's _not_ fine," Stiles replies while turning to glare at my brother.

"I said I was sorry!" Scott exclaims defensively while ducking under the protection of my text book once more. "Shh!" he hisses. "Allison's looking over here!"

My brow furrows in confusion but before I can question it Stiles gets to his feet, takes my book into his left hand, before taking _my_ left hand into his right and tugging me upwards. "Maybe if you made it less obvious," Stiles begins angrily, "she wouldn't be. C'mon Nessa," Stiles begins while leading me away from my brother, "let's go."

"Why is my brother avoiding Allison?" I ask as we exit the lunchroom and enter an empty hallway.

"Why didn't you call me this morning?" Stiles questions while ignoring mine; turning his heel to look down at me. Surprised by our sudden stop I bump into his chest and nearly fall back. Luckily he catches me around the small of my back; thankfully a no-bruise zone.

"Stiles," I begin slowly while looking up into his eyes, "I'm out of your way."

He pulls a face I can't quite read and doesn't release me from his grasp. In his iced-coffee eyes is frustration and something… else that I can't determine, but my decoding of Stiles' emotions is cut off by his words.

"Making soup for me and my dad was out of your way," he begins. "Calling me every hour on the hour all weekend was out of your way. Joining your mom on a ten-hour shift just to give my dad company was out of your way!"

"Stiles-" I begin with wide eyes; only to be interrupted.

"Dammit, Vanessa!" Stiles exclaims while taking a step back and releasing me to run his free hand over his head. "You're so _frustrating _sometimes."

I blink incomprehensibly for a moment before quietly replying, "I don't mean to be."

"I made a promise, Nessa," Stiles sighs as his face relaxes from its tense expression, "that I would be there for you. Why won't you let me?"

"Stiles it was just a ride to school," I reply uncertainly. "It really isn't a big deal."

"You don't get it," Stiles says with an exasperated shake of his head.

I eye him strangely before taking my textbook from his hand and walking past him; muttering, "I'm not sure I want to," under my breath.

What the hell is his problem?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I avoided Scott and Stiles for the rest of the day. Scott because he's being an asshole, and Stiles because he's just… confusing right now. Like, what did he mean by 'why won't you let me?' And why the hell does he feel obliged to pay me back for looking after the sheriff? Stiles' dad has been there for me since he entered it, and now that Amelia's gone there's no one to look after him… for both of them, really. I just wanted to be there for him. Besides, I felt responsible for the sheriff's injury. Before it happened I _knew_ it would. I just wasn't fast enough to stop it.

"Miss McCall," Harris drawls as I enter the lab, "what a surprise." The sarcasm in his tone was irritatingly obvious. "Phone," he orders as I pass his desk.

I slap it into his hand much harder than necessary and accompany the gesture with a glare which he easily mirrors before taking my usual seat.

I _hate _Monday detentions.

"I'll be right back," Harris announces while getting to his feet. "Do not leave this classroom. Do not touch anything. Don't even get out of your seat."

I purse my lips before questioning with false innocence, "But sir, what if I have to go to the bathroom?"

"Hold it," he snaps before sliding my phone into his pocket and exiting the classroom; shutting the door securely behind him.

Dick.

"Okay," I mutter while taking my Algebra binder out of my bag, "homework."

There is one thing and one thing only good about detention, and that is no homework interruptions. I'm one of those people who need silence to do sufficient and detailed work. As I'm sure you've realized silence isn't easy to come by when you spend the majority of your time with Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, so as weird as it sounds detention benefits my school life.

Unfortunately though, I'm also very speedy. That plus a surprisingly little workload meant a fast-finish; meaning I had a half an hour to kill with nothing to do. Great. Harris also had yet to return, which would have been concerning if I actually gave a damn about his whereabouts. So… what to do, what to do?

I fiddle with my decretory but very cozy scarf while brainstorming how to kill the next thirty minutes. I could study but that would mean I would be _studying_. I could get ahead in my classes but… no. So what should I do? Contemplate the meaning of life? Chew off my arm due to pure boredom? Over-speculate every word that's ever come out of Stiles' mouth? Worry relentlessly about the alpha? Continue compiling a mental list of things to do?

"Sit," Mr. Harris snaps suddenly with undisguised fury as he enters the classroom; making me jump at his unsuspected presence.

I look up to the teacher wide-eyed; thinking he was talking to me only to see my twin and Stiles in Lucifer's tow. Uhm, what the hell?

They both looked to me, smiled apologetically, and then joined me at the desk; taking seats on either side. Harris shot us a withering glare but said nothing. Instead he turned to his work and began angrily scribbling in red ink on someone's paper.

"Why do you have blood on your face?" I whisper while turning to my brother, who simply shrugs and wipes his bloodied cheek in response. Unsatisfied with his lack-of answer I then turn to Stiles and rephrase my question. "Why does he have blood on his face?"

"Wolf training," the twitchy boy replied softly. "He passed."

I blink stupidly up at him a few times before saying, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

The answer was because I was. The boys filled me in about everything I had missed due to my anger and avoidance; Derek's order to stay away from Allison, Scott's sneaking out to hang out with Allison despite said warning, Scott overhearing Allison's Aunt Kate talk about the Argent family's history, and Scott avoiding Allison during the school day only to realize she's his anchor (what calms him and keeps him from shifting) due to the fact he (holy hell) _loves_ her. It was a lot to take in, and even after Harris dismissed us and left himself I stayed seated trying to comprehend everything.

"Scott," I began slowly while looking up to my now standing brother, "you're… in love."

"Yeah," he smiled. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Oh my god!" I laughed while blinking owlishly and getting to my feet. I leant over the table to pull Scott down into an excited embrace and squeezed him with all of my might. "My baby brother's in love!" I said joyously before pulling away.

"You're two minutes older than me," Scott smiled with a roll of his eyes.

"The best two minutes of my life," I quip while packing my books away. "Wow," I grin with an incredulous shake of my head. "Wow."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Before I knew it Friday was among us. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday passed without any problems. Scott, Stiles, and I weren't arguing, Lydia and I aced the French project we'd been assigned, and Scallison (their names work horribly together, seriously) was at an all-time love high. In fact my twin and Allison were due for a double date with Lackson (an equally bad pairing) tonight after Scott's shift at the vet's. Things were good. Things were _finally _good.

"I wonder if Cujo's been released yet," I muse while hopping off of my twin's bike's handlebars.

I would be joining him tonight at the office. I usually did, actually. Deaton offered me a job but community service looks better to college so I turned it down. As awesome as it sounds to play with dogs for cash I mostly did it for the fun. Plus I really just enjoyed Deaton's company. He never talked to me like I was a kid like my mom's coworkers did, which is why I opted to leave the Candy Stripers this summer. That and a _billion_ too many lewd comments on the bus ride home from the hospital.

Boy, do I hate busses. They're good for the environment, sure, but not exactly for young girls.

"I don't think so," Scott replies with a furrow of his brow. "He ripped his stitches again so I doubt it."

"Aw," I frowned as we entered the office. "Poor- oh my god!" My mouth dropped and eyes widened at the sight before me as shock flooded my senses. "What the hell are you doing?!"

**Author's Note!**

**For my fellow readers who will be spending New Years on the internet (I had, had plans for tonight but as mentioned last chapter my chronic illness' flare-up has basically left me on my death bed), Happy New Year! As my gift to you my Night School chapter will be up in a few hours!**

**Also, I can see from my viewer-tracker-thing that Chapter 19 had nearly 300 more views than Chapter 18, so I think since I uploaded them both hours apart some of you missed the posting of Chapter 18, didn't realize it too had been a new post, and just went to the last chapter uploaded. I do that from time-to-time, so if that is the case please go back and read them in chronological order!**

**This chapter was shorter than they've been lately, but Night School is a very long and grueling episode so I think it will even out.**

**On to reviewer replies!**

**Fluffyfluffyboomboom- Thank you! I'm taking vitamins and my meds and just praying this flare-up isn't as bad as it usually is. I'm glad you liked the chapter and hope you like this one just as much!**

**Please review! I'm not an author that holds chapters and won't post until I get a certain number of reviews but it's really discouraging not hearing from you guys. I can see there are literally thousands of you, so I know you're reading! It isn't that hard to type a little comment! Please, please, please?**


	23. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"Stop it!" Scott shouts while pushing past me to stop Derek's assault on the veterinarian. "What the hell are you _doing_?"

I rush to Deaton's side and feel for his pulse before letting out a sigh of relief when I find it. "Why are you doing this to him?" I snap while turning to glare up at Derek.

"When he's unconscious he can't heal himself," Derek spits right back.

"What are you talking about?" I question breathlessly while lifting Deaton's head so his neck wasn't cricked. "You think Dr. Deaton's the alpha?"

Derek's features turn dark and he crosses the room before picking up a photo from the examination table. "The spiral is our sign for revenge," he informs my twin and I as we disgustedly inspect the gruesome wound depicted on a deer's side. "It means he won't stop killing until he's satisfied."

His word's spark a memory of Stiles' revelation from last week and I shake my head in denial. "It isn't Deaton," I reply surely. Stiles and I hadn't gotten a chance to look deeper into the victim's connection to the house fire, so we didn't know if it really was significant, but I had a feeling it was. My feelings however, were not enough to change Derek's mind.

The older werewolf lifted his fisted hand once more only to be stopped by a partially wolfed-out Scott. "Hit him again," my twin growled, "and you'll be sorry."

"He's the alpha," Derek grits out through clenched teeth.

"You don't know that," I deny with a shake of my head. "Look; he obviously isn't healing quickly."

"He's the alpha," the lone Hale repeats while narrowing his eyes on me.

"Just give us an hour," Scott pleads. "Just give us an hour, take Deaton, and meet us in the school parking lot."

Derek's purses his lips and stays silent for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. "Fine," the werewolf agrees. "An hour."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's the plan?" I ask while clutching onto my brother's shoulders and praying my feet don't bounce off his bike's pegs. We were going faster than I'd even ridden; Scott was without a doubt tapping into his wolf-y powers to propel us quickly to the school.

"Call Stiles," my twin orders instead of answering my question. "Tell him to meet us at the school."

"You have to slow down," I say. "I feel like I'm about to fly off holding on with _both _hands-"

"Then put your phone on speaker," Scott snaps; making me raise my brows in surprise.

"Fine," I mumble while reaching into my back pocket cautiously before returning my hand to Scott's shoulder once more.

_Ring, ring, r-_

"Iron Man 2 or Prisoner of Azkaban?" Stiles questions having picked up the phone.

"Neither," I reply sadly. "There's a wolf problem. You have to meet us at the school."

A groan of disappointment sounds out and I internally join in. "_Every time_," Stiles whines.

"I know," I sigh. "But this is important. Derek things Dr. Deaton's the alpha."

"What?"

"Yeah. Scott has a plan. Just meet us at the school, okay?"

"I'm leaving now," Stiles informs. "See you there."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So what's the plan?" Stiles asks while hopping out of the Jeep.

"Don't know," I pout while crossing my arms and giving my twin a pointed look.

Scott rolls his eyes in response before (finally) complying. "You said wolves howl to alert their packs," twin begins while looking importantly to Stiles. "If I howl and the alpha hears me, s_omething_ ought to happen. And when it does and Deaton is unresponsive Derek will realize he isn't the alpha."

"That's a terrible idea," I say as my mouth drops in surprise.

"No it isn't," Scott defends with a frown.

"Scott what are we going to do if the alpha then _comes here_?" I ask.

"How would he even hear you, anyway?" Stiles chimes in curiously.

"Don't encourage him," I snap. "This isn't a good idea."

Both boys ignore me.

"That's why I wanted to come to the school," Scott says. "For the P.A. system."

"Wow, Scott," Stiles replies with a raising brow. "That's pretty smart."

"No," I cut in while stepping in between the two boys. "No, it really isn't. This is a bad idea."

"Vanessa," Scott begins while laying a hand on my back, "calm down. Your heart is racing."

I was shaking too. "Scott I have a very, _very_ bad feeling about this," I say in a strangely high-pitched, trembling voice.

Before my twin can respond Derek's Camaro pulls into the parking lot before screeching to a halt beside us.

"Where's my boss?" Scott asks as Derek exits the sports car with a terse expression.

"He's in the back," the werewolf answers.

"Well he looks comfortable," Stiles retorts sarcastically as I try my hardest to keep my dinner down.

I walk shakily over to Derek's car before leaning against it. The werewolf angles his head towards me, and for a second I think he's going to tell me off, but I guess the wide-eyed look on my face and trembling of my body stops him. I can physically hear my heartbeat in my ears; it almost completely drowns out Scott revealing his plan to Derek who, to my surprise, has no objections.

Dear god, I'm gonna hurl.

"Vanessa, you coming?"

I blink to clear my head and vision to see Stiles looking concernedly down at me. "No," I deny. "No, I need the air."

"Okay," he nods. "We'll be right back."

"This is gonna end badly," I state grimly when Scott and Stiles disappear into the school building. I angle my head so I can meet Derek's eyes, and they're looking at me with an unreadable expression. "Someone's going to get hurt," I say. "This is all going to go very, very wrong."

His broody brow furrowed but before he could respond the most _pathetic_ how I'd ever heard screeched over the high school's P.A. system; catching both of our attention. Not a full minute later another howl entered the air; this one long, loud, and powerful.

Well _shit_.

"What are you trying to do? Attract the entire state to the school?" Derek snaps as Stiles and Scott (who looked rather smug) rejoin us.

"I didn't think it would be _that_ loud," my twin replied. "Sorry." He didn't sound sorry.

"It was awesome!" Stiles whooped with a toothy grin.

"Hey," Scott began with an angry expression, "what'd you do with Dr. Deaton?"

I stood up straight and turned my heel to look into Derek's car which, sure enough, was empty. "He was just there," I whisper while turning to look up at Derek for confirmation. My eyes widened at the looming figure behind the werewolf, and a scream tore through my throat before I even had time to think. "_Derek!_"

The alpha's claw ripped right through the young man's chest; bloodied and menacing. Derek matched my horrified expression as he coughed breathlessly and met my wide-eyed gaze with one of his own.

"Run," he choked before being thrown carelessly down onto the pavement.

A large hand encased my own and began pulling me towards the school building, and I stumbled after whoever it was without turning my eyes away from the advancing alpha.

"Lock it, lock it!" Scott shouts while pushing me into the opened building.

Stiles closed the double doors, twisted their locks, and slipped the handle of a broom through the rectangular doorknobs before turning to my twin and I with a horrified expression.

"We can't just leave him out there," I whispered while coming to my senses. "Oh my god, we can't just leave Derek out there!"

"He's dead, Vanessa," Scott replies while placing his hands firmly on my shoulders.

"You don't know that!" I exclaim. "We could save him! We could-!"

"We step out of those doors and we'll die too," Stiles interrupts with a shake of his head. "No."

A loud _bang_ sounded out and the door shook violently at the impact it undoubtedly sustained. I reached out to grab Stiles' hand and tugged the boy closer to me and away from the exit; not at all liking the situation we've found ourselves in.

"That's not going to hold for long," I say. "We have to run- hide- do s_omething_."

_Bang!_

The next thing I know we're in a classroom and the boys are barricading the door. It's a good idea in theory, but on the off chance we have to _escape_ it'll be a bitch to shift through. Still, it makes them feel better so I keep my thoughts to myself.

"That won't hold," Scott says while stumbling backwards and away from the door in a panic.

"No," I agree while folding my arms and inspecting their work. "It won't."

"I can't believe it," Stiles breathes while turning to face us with wide-eyes. "I can't believe the alpha's your boss."

"It isn't Deaton," I deny. "It isn't him; I can feel it."

"Oh yeah," Stiles begins sarcastically with an eye roll. "Scott howls, Deaton goes missing, and then the alpha shows up and punches a hole through Derek's chest; totally coincidence."

Why is he being such an asshole?

"It isn't Deaton," I repeat strongly.

He ignores me and begins to pace while twitching almost violently. "Okay, okay we just have to get out of here. We just have to get to the Jeep and drive away. We-"

"We stop out of those doors and we die, remember?" I quote irritably. "There's no way we'd make it to your car, Stiles. Not all of us."

"Then we'll only send out one of us," Stiles replies. "They can drive away and get help or lead the alpha away or-"

"And who are you willing to give up as bait?" I snap in surprise. Does he realize what he's suggesting?

Stiles' pacing stops and he looks to me with a frustrated expression. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Besides," I continue, "there's no way to open the windows. The school's climate controlled."

"Then we break them," Stiles replies.

"If we do that we might as well just hand the alpha our asses on a silver platter. He'd know where we are; we'd be sitting ducks."

"Stiles," Scott begins while squinting out into the parking lot's darkness, "is there something wrong with the hood of your car?"

"What?" the owner of said car questions while joining me and my brother at the windows.

My breath catches in my throat and I allow my instincts to take over. "Duck!" I shout while grabbing each boy by their upper arms and dropping to the ground.

Milliseconds later something crashes through the computer lab's window; sending shards of glass flying throughout the room.

"That's my battery!" Stiles yelps while looking wide-eyed to the projectile.

"Vanessa get down!" Scott hisses as I get to my knees and peak out of the now broken window. "The alpha could be right outside!"

"He _is_ right outside," I reply while scanning the parking lot for any sign of the feral werewolf. "We've got to move," I say while crossing the room and knocking the stacked furniture away. "_Now_."

"Where do we go?" Scott asks as we stumble out into the poorly lit hallway.

"Somewhere without windows," Stiles replies.

"Every room in this building has windows," I say.

"Then somewhere with less windows!"

"The locker room!" Scott exclaims while leading the way. "C'mon!"

"Stiles you have to call your dad," my twin says as we cross the gymnasium and head towards the boy's locker room.

"We can't," I interject. "What would we say? 'Hey Sheriff, we're trapped in the school because there's a homicidal werewolf after us!' Yeah, they'd go over real well."

"No!" Scott snaps down at me before looking over my head and to Stiles. "Tell him there's a fire or a gas leak! If the alpha sees a bunch of cop cars it'll take off."

"_Or_," Stiles begins pointedly, "go on a killing spree and kill every cop in sight; including my dad!"

"He's right," I agree. "The sheriff stays out of this."

"Then what are we gonna do, huh?" my twin asks. "How are we gonna survive this?"

"We could take Derek's car," Stiles suggests.

"That could work," Scott replies.

"No it couldn't," I deny with a shake of my head as we enter the changing room. "Guys the alpha is literally _right outside_, and even if he isn't we can't outrun him. And I doubt he left the Camaro untouched when he _destroyed_ the Jeep."

"Shh!" Scott suddenly hushes while coming to a halt. "I think I hear something." Stiles and I freeze in response. "Hide," my twin orders while pushing me and Stiles towards an opened, fairly sized locker. "Don't say a word," he says while closing the door; effectively concealing us before climbing into the locker beside us.

If this had been any other situation I would have been rejoicing at mine and Stiles' closeness; we were packed into the locker sideways so we both could fit; chest to chest, feet over lapping each other, and legs intertwined. Each of Stiles' exhales moved strands of my hair too short to fit into the ponytail I'd styled this morning, and each of my inhales pressed me further into him. We have virtually and literally no room, but I didn't mind. Instead his closeness made me feel irrationally safer, and although I knew hiding was futile; that the alpha could hear our breaths (no matter how silent we made them) and heartbeats (we really had no control over those) I felt hopeful… because that's how Stiles just makes me feel.

The locker room's door creaked slowly open and I clenched my eye lids fearfully as Stiles tensed and grasped my hands in his own.

Shit, should I tell him I love him before we die? Should I get one kiss in before we can kiss no more? Should I hug him; apologize for not being normal and being able to show my feelings in non-life or death situations? Should I-?

Oh my god, _what? _Did I just…

Holy hell, I'm in love with Stiles.

I am in love with Stiles, he doesn't know it, we are about to die, and I'm in love with Stiles.

Fuck.

**Author's Note!**

**Hurray for revelations, and happy New Years!**

**The remainder of the Night School episode will be up shortly.**

**I also haven't received any new reviews which makes me feel sad and discouraged and like no one really cares about this story and Vanessa's story and the journey she's going through and my writing which is… sad.**

**So yeah, ya'll should review. **


	24. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"What the hell are you kids doing here?" an angry voice demands.

I turn to look up and nearly laugh in relief. A janitor. A _janitor_! Thank god.

Oh my god, a janitor!

"Sir," I begin while pushing myself out of the locker forcefully. "Sir, we have to get out of here!"

"Bet your ass you do!" the janitor shouts as Stiles and Scott come out of their hiding places as well.

"No, Sir you don't understand- listen-!"

"Get the hell out of here!" the janitor screams while getting red in the face.

"Vanessa let's just go," Scott says with panicked eyes.

I turn to my brother and nod; having caught on. The alpha is not after this man. The alpha is after us, and as long as we stay away from this man he is safe.

"Okay," I breathe before facing the janitor once more. "I'm sorry," I apologize while following the two boys back towards the doors leading back into the gym.

Right after the exit, however, the door slams closed; trapping me and the janitor in the locker room.

Oh my god.

"Vanessa open the door!" Stiles orders while he and Scott, assumedly, begin pounding on the exit door.

"I can't!" I scream while tugging with all of my might on the exit door. "It's jammed!"

"What do you kids think you're doing?" the janitor questions shrilly while approaching me.

"Do you have a key for this door?" I ask desperately.

"Who the hell shut it?" he shouts. "Everyone knows that door jams!"

Oh my god.

"Vanessa!" Scott and Stiles chorus.

_Oh my god… the alpha. He's right there. Oh my god. He's right there._

"Sir!" I shriek while reaching out for the man. "He's right behind you!"

I watch in horrification as the janitor turns to look over his shoulder, only to get his head taken clean off by the alpha.

"_Ah!_" I shriek while pressing my back firmer against the door. "Oh my God, no! Help me! _Help me!_"

"Vanessa!" the boys shout as their knocking becomes more frantic.

The blood is everywhere. On the lockers, on the alpha, on the floor, on _me_; everywhere. The alpha locks its scarlet eyes on me, and, fucking hell is that a smile? Is that a fucking _smile_?

"No," I whimper as fat tears fall from my eyes. "Oh my god, no." My knees buckle and I slide slowly down the exit door. "Please don't kill me," I plea. "Please."

"He's gonna kill her!" I hear my twin scream in horror as the door vibrates relentlessly against my back.

"Fight back!" Stiles yells in a cracking voice. "Dammit Vanessa, fight back!"

So I do.

The alpha advances on me and I roll out of the way; allowing him to plow head-first into the door. I scurry around the locker room looking for something, anything, until finally coming across a net-less lacrosse stick and taking ahold of it.

I'm not stupid. I don't think I can win this battle; I don't even think I can hurt the alpha… but I fight back. I fight back because I can't run, I fight back because I'm trying to put off my death for as long as I can, and most of all I fight back because I'm _not_ pathetic.

"Run!" I shout to the boys through my tears. "Get out of here!"

The alpha lets out a loud roar when it recovers from the self-induced injury; drowning out the boys' response if they made any. I tighten my grip on the lacrosse stick as it stalks towards me and look it right in the eyes with a determined scowl.

"I'm not afraid of you; not anymore. My brother will get you. It won't matter if you kill me; if force Scott to cut Stiles out of his life. He's_ good_," I say with a smile. "Scott is good and you won't _ever_ change that."

The alpha growls menacingly while getting up on his hind legs; obviously trying to get me to cower away in fear; to back down and beg for my life.

"Scott," I begin tearfully; now speaking directly to my brother who is still shouting and attempting to knock down the door, "you were the greatest brother I could have ever hoped for."

"Stop!" I hear my brother scream/sob. "Stop talking like this! Stop!"

"I am so thankful to have known you," I continue; shocked that the alpha has allowed me to go on this long. "And I am so, so proud of you for dealing with everything the way you have."

"Vanessa stop!"

"Tell Mom that I'm sorry for not being strong enough," I cry. "Make sure she knows I loved her."

"Stiles we have to get this door down!"

"Tell Dad that I never stopped loving him, either. That no matter what happened I was still a daddy's girl at heart. A-and make sure Ingrid is a good mom to their baby, okay?" I sniffle and take a step back when the alpha takes a step forward. I need more time to finish; I need to make sure I say everything I need to say.

"Make sure you tell that baby how cool of an older sister I was," I laugh tearfully.

"What is she saying?" I hear Stiles question urgently.

"Oh my god," I sob. "Scott, you tell Stiles I love him. That I've been in love with him since eighth grade and that I loved him until the very end. Oh my god, who's going to take care of them with both me and Lia gone?"

"Vanessa," Scott sobs loudly, "tell him yourself! Tell him yourself!"

"I'm so sorry," I whisper while raising the lacrosse stick in hand.

I managed to get one good hit before the world went black.

**Author's Note!**

**DUN DUN DUUUUNNNN!**

**I feel like the humane side of Peter would allow Vanessa to say her final words before ripping her to parts, what do you think? I mean, he killed Laura on a power trip his wolf side took over and needed to heal itself, but other than her what "innocent" person was killed? He was out getting revenge; his family had been slaughtered in one of the most painful ways to die and he wanted everyone responsible to be brought to justice. As twisted as it sounds… I understand it.**

**So yeah, I think he would realistically allow Vanessa to speak. I wrote him stand on his hind legs (I'm pointing this out because I don't know if it was clear even though I'm a real show-don't-tell kind of writer) because I wanted to show his human side fighting with his wolf side- struggling to allow this girl to speak her final goodbye.**

**Well, I mean that wasn't really her final goodbye but still! She thought it was! **

**Comment, comment, comment! Review, review, review! Happy New Year! More will be up in a few hours! Let me know what you think! Sorry this was so short but I mean… she's was sort of knocked out… so…**

**I also just thought this would be a smart place to stop. Ya.**


	25. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Everything was pink. A bright, vibrant, pigmented pink that burned my retina's and made my head throb painfully.

Dear god, I'm in hell.

I always knew I was a little on the… mean side but I didn't think I'd go to hell! I was still a good person! And fuck, what is that _noise_? Is this what Hell is; annoying noises, vibrant pinks, and migraines?

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Scott," Scott? Did my twin die, too? But how did he end up in hell? He's so… nice. A little dumb, sure, but nice. "Scott, I think she's waking up." And who is that talking? The devil? No… the voice is too sweet… too soft… too lovely….

Wait, is that-?

"Stiles," I groan while lifting my heavy eyelids. "Stiles is that you?"

My vision is blurry, even after an array of blinks, but I can still see enough to know that my guess is correct. His face is just before my own; I can make out his alabaster skin, flushed cheeks, the hue of his iced-coffee eyes, and his bright wide smile.

Maybe I'm in Heaven?

_Beep-Beep! Beep-Beep! Beep-Beep!_

Nope; not Heaven. That is my heart rate… meaning I'm in the hospital. Great.

"I'm alive?" I question deliriously while owlishly looking around my hospital room.

"You're alive," I hear my brother confirm while clasping my right hand in his own.

I smile sarcastically, close my eyes, and say, "Well there goes my dream of dying a romantic, martyrdom death."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I gaze around my hospital room one last time with an odd bittersweet feeling welling in my chest. I had spent eleven full days in here, and even though I had seen the inside of Beacon Hills Medical Center way too many times this year, those eleven days were… oddly nice.

There were no wolf problems in this room; no fights, no traumatic experiences, no drama whatsoever. Instead there was healing; physical and emotional. I would have scars of both kinds but I could deal with them. As long as I have Scotty and Stiles I could deal with anything.

_Knock! Knock!_

"Hey Mom," I greet while turning to the door with a wide smile. "Ready to get going?"

"Oh, I can't take you home sweetie," Mom says with an apologetic smile from the doorway. "My shift's been changed; I'll be here till midnight."

My smile falters before disappearing altogether. The boys were out doing something for Derek (I didn't ask for specifics because after being filled in on the night's events I'd declared my hospital room a no-werewolf-zone) meaning Stiles couldn't come pick me up. I could call the sheriff but he's on duty and I don't want to be a burden; not that he would ever make me feel that way…

"I'll call Lydia," I say while reaching into my back pocket to take out my cellphone. "See if she can-"

"Actually," Mom interrupts, "Collin said he'd take you home." I watch with wide eyes as she stepped aside to reveal-

"Dad?" I questioned in shock. "What are you doing here?"

And what _was_ he doing here? I mean, he hadn't even come by to visit me once while I was admitted. I got no phone calls, no flowers, not even a 'Feel Better!' balloon, and now all of a sudden he's here with a bleached-toothed smile; obviously feeling like the greatest dad in the world? Is my mother _crazy_?

"Hey Vee-Vee!" I cringe at the use of my childhood nickname while rigidly standing still as my father reached out to hug me. "It's so good to see you! You look so grown up!"

"Yeah well," I begin tersely while glaring up at my father, "it _has _been a year."

While 365 days (and a new-found love for makeup) could completely transform a teenage girl, the time passed hadn't changed my father at all. Scott has his nose and brooding eyebrows, and I'd inherited my light brown hair from him, but luckily that's where our resemblance stopped. I was born with Mom's button nose, Grandma McCall's too-big lips, Grandma Consuela's petite build, and green eyes all of my own. Scott, sans his jawline and sniffer, was 100 percent Papa George; Mom's dad, and thankfully neither me nor my twin had personalities even remotely similar to our father.

"I've got to go," Mom announces while entering the room to give me a kiss on my cheek. "I'll see you at home."

"See you," I glare as she scurries off; obviously regretting her decision to call Dad.

"So how've you been, kiddo?" Dad questions while reaching out to take my small tote filled with personal items up from the hospital bed.

I pick it up first and throw it over my shoulder possessively before limping out of the room. "Good aside from my attempted murder," I answer breezily while silently relishing at his wince.

"Sorry for not stopping by sooner, Vee-Vee," Dad apologizes. "I-"

"How's Ingrid?" I interrupt while picking up speed. "And the baby?"

"They're- wait, how-?"

"Congratulations, by the way," I continue as my voice gains pitch. "Have you started working on a nursery?"

"Yeah, Ingrid-"

"That's good," I cut in. "It must be nice to trade in your old family for a shiny new one."

The fifteen minute car ride went similarly, and I grew more and more satisfied as Dad become more and more frustrated. He never told me off though; he just let me continue. It was because he knew he was wrong; because _I _knew he was wrong… because he's just _wrong._

"Thanks for driving me home," I say airily while opening the passenger's side door. "Maybe I'll see you again in another year."

"Vanessa-"

_Slam!_

Asshole.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I hate this," I announce while falling into the seat beside Scott. "Everyone keeps looking at me; whispering whenever I was by; asking me questions about what happened."

My first day back at school was going… horrendously, to say the least. The only person who acted even remotely normal around me was Erica, and even _then_ she kept talking as if I'd snap at any moment. 'I'm fine' was apparently not an acceptable answer, and neither was 'Fuck off'; something I realized when Madame Bestrode threatened me with a week's. I was seconds away from just leaving the school and everyone in it behind.

"Oh, c'mon," Stiles begins with a sympathetic smile, "it can't be that bad."

"That's easy for you to say," I snap back. "You're not the one who had to deal with Stacy Jennings telling you how ugly you are in the girls' locker room during gym today." I pull a face and make my voice a fraction as annoying as the Jennings' girl. "_Who'd want to go to the formal with _that_?_" I quote. "_You look like you were mauled by a bear. It's disgusting. You_ _should warn people next time you get undressed._ As if just being in the gym again wasn't hard enough."

I look up to the tiled ceiling and take in a deep, slow breath while blinking away my welling tears. It was true; the healing wounds on my lower back, left hip, and left thigh weren't the most attractive things in the world but who the hell _says that_? As if I don't feel ugly enough already.

"That's horrible," Scott admonishes while laying a hand on my shoulder concernedly.

"She's right though," I sigh with a shaking off his touch. "I don't think I'm gonna go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Stiles cuts in, "oh yes you are. You're my date, remember?"

"When did this happen?" my twin asks with surprise only to be ignored.

"You don't want to go with me, Stiles," I deny. "The dress I ordered is short; it'll show my scars."

"So what?" Stiles questions with an eye roll. "That doesn't matter."

"Stiles you don't have to feel obligated to go with me-" I begin sadly, only to be cut off.

"I don't feel _obligated_ to do anything," he interrupts. "I _want_ to go with you."

"Even if I'm ugly?" I ask meekly while looking down to my hands in shame.

"Vanessa Marisol McCall," Stiles begins strongly; gaining my attention and causing me to look up at him from under my eyelashes, "you are a lot of things," he smiles, "but ugly is not one of them."

**Author's Note! PLEASE READ AND DON'T SKIP OVER IT! YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOOK THROUGH MY REPLIES TO REVIEWS BUT IMPORTANT STUFF IS IN THIS UPPER PART!**

**This chapter is so, so short but I've gotten so many reviews and PMs demanding an update so here ya go! Maybe I'll go back and rewrite it but I figured I'd be nice and just post what I have for now.**

**Collin McCall made a very short appearance in the chapter, and was promptly but slyly bitched out by Vanessa so yeah… that's a thing that happened. Also, his faceclaim is D.W. Moffett. McCall is an Irish surname so I tried my hardest to find a suitable actor to play Scott and Vanessa's father! Anyway, I saw D.W.'s nose and I was like "sold!".**

**Also… guys… how would you feel if I said I'd found a first name for Stiles? It's Gaelic (I'm not sure where the surname Stilinski originates from but since Stiles had gotten his first name from his mom's side of the family and I've decided his mom's side of the family is 100% Irish so it doesn't matter) and IMPOSSIBLE to pronounce and just… perfect so, what do ya'll think? I don't know how or if I'm going to even write it into the story line but I wanted Stiles to have a first name.**

**Okay, here it is, ready?**

**DUN DUN DUN!**

**The name is Fearganainm and it means "Unnamed Man". I thought both the name itself and its meaning was fitting being as I have no idea how to say it and Stiles is in the show, literally, unnamed. Also, I don't know if you guys know this, but the name Vanessa has absolutely no meaning. It was just made up because it sounds pretty, so I just thought that an unnamed man would go well with a woman whose name has no meaning. What do you guys think? Stiles' name isn't significant to my story but it's just really important to me. Let me know in the reviews!**

**Also I've found a faceclaim for Stiles' mom, who I'd named Amelia! I actually named her (kind of) after her faceclaim. Amelia Stilinski will soon be portrayed by Karen Gillan who played Amelia Pond Doctor Who! Karen Gillan is obviously very young but it isn't hard to picture her middle-aged and as Stiles' mom! Their complexions are nearly identical, features are somewhat similar, and since Karen is Irish I just thought it was perfect fit! Once again guys, let me know what you think!**

**Onto Review replies!**

**Kat- I could never kill off Vanessa; especially since Stinessa isn't a thing that's happened yet! Honestly I don't know how authors kill off their characters. Like when J.K. Rowling killed Sirius, Tonks, Remus, and Fred off I was just like "HOW? WHY? I DON'T WANT THE LIFE LESSONS THEIR DEATHS COME WITH!" so don't worry, Vanessa is alive, snarky, and kicking! Onto your werewolf theory; I've debated changing Vanessa into a werewolf since before I even began writing this story, and after much deliberation I've decided to leave her human. She doesn't want to be like Scott, as bad as that sounds. She doesn't want to be supernatural, or have super strength; she's happy just being herself. Sure, Vanessa wishes she was stronger, but I think Vanessa would be devastated to be turned. In an early-on chapter of this story, after Jackson's party and after Derek chased her around the forest to lure Scott to him, Vanessa panicked when she thought she'd been bitten, and I didn't really think about that scene's significance until I was writing this chapter. I looked back, reread my story, and asked myself if I wanted to make Vanessa a werewolf. The answer was, obviously, no. I think it would just be unfair, and honestly one McCall werewolf if trouble enough. About Vanessa witnessing the janitor's death: there will undoubtedly be some sort of mental scarring! Vanessa's insecurity is at an all time high what with the wounds on her body, and soon you will see her mental state plummet further. How, where, and when is just something you'll have to wait for! Thanks for being an awesome and active reader!**

**Fluffyfluffyboomboom- Chapter 21 was a favorite of mine, too! I'm trying really hard on getting my chapters lengthy and rich with details, but I'm still learning so bear with me! I really hope you like this chapter as well.**

**FormofJane- Ugly cries are the worst kind of cries; I'm sorry to inflict them upon you! I may/may not (I did) have shed a few tears while writing the end of last chapter, so I kind of know how you feel. Well, not really. I knew where I was going with the story while you didn't… MUHAHA. Lol, I hope you like this chapter!**

**XxrudexbutxnicexX- First off, I just want to compliment your penname because it's a contradiction I understand wholeheartedly. Secondly, I'm glad you liked last chapter and hope you enjoy this one just as much!**

**Mcgonagiggles- I'm so, so happy you love this story! Also, "I'MASDEADASTHEJANITOR" has got to be the BEST BEST BEST thing that's ever been said about/in response to this story. I couldn't stop laughing for a good two minutes straight, so thank you!**

**Lenie954- I hurried and hope you liked it! I promise next chapter will be much longer and please, continue to review! Thank you so much!**

**That's all for now, guys!**


	26. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

First and foremost, I would just like to say I hate Mr. Harris. I hate him more than I hate the sound of puppies crying. I hate him more than I hate holes in Glee's plotline. I hate him more than I hate Algebra 1. I hate him more than I hate the fact that Chris Brown and Rihanna are dating again. I hate him more than I hate Stacy Jennings. I hate him more than I hate the recently announced news of my father and Ingrid's engagement. I hate him more than I hate Jackson for pulling out Lydia's heart, ripping it to shreds, pissing on it, and then setting it on fire; leaving her even more of a ruthless bitch than life pre-Lackson split. I hate him more than I'd ever hated anything ever… like, _ever_ because not only is he a raging asshole, but he made making up eleven days of Chem. work grueling and nearly impossible. I say "nearly" because, purely by the grace of god, Stiles had actually paid attention in Chemistry while I was out and tutored me so diligently it was if I was the dumb twin, but hey; _it worked_.

Actually, I would like to amend one of my previous statements. Yes, I do hate Mr. Harris, but there is one thing I hate more than him; that one thing being… wait for it… my nightmares.

Every night, without fail, I dream of what happened the night the alpha trapped us in the school. Now that wouldn't be so bad if it was just my memory of the night being regurgitated again and again, I could handle my memories, but my proclamations of love (which my twin thankfully left unshared) and what I thought was my final goodbye was _not_ what my subconscious was spewing as I slept. Instead I dreamt of what I've come to call After.

After is what happened after (hence the name) I lost consciousness. In After I watch as the alpha swipes at my body like I would a bug; sending me flying into a tiled wall like a ragdoll. In After I see Scott and Stiles attempt to break down the locker room door and hear their voices scream my name. In After I watch as the alpha leave the changing room the way he came; through a window in the showers. The nightmare always begins this way, and I think that's because I know that all of that stuff happened. Stiles had told me after the fire department pried the locked exit doors open I'd been found sprawled across the floor, bleeding out, unconscious, and surrounded by cracked tile that had broken upon my impact. The small window in which the alpha squeezed through was determined his access point by the police during the investigation; another proven fact I was made aware of. Scott and Stiles' screaming was obviously true even if they hadn't said it during the telling of their story. All of that stuff in After made sense; what followed, however, didn't.

Scott told me about Allison, Jackson, and Lydia's arrival. He told me about the mysterious text message he didn't send but Allison received. He told me about the locking of everyone in the classroom as he, ever the lone ranger, went to face the alpha alone. He told me about the overwhelming urge to kill Stiles, his _best friend_, simply because the alpha wanted it so. He told me about Scallison's heartbreaking split, his blaming everything on Derek, and Derek's short-lived disappearance. Yes, Scotty boy told me everything I'd missed while unconscious and dying in the boy's locker room, but none of this gathered information was in After.

Instead it wasn't Allison who had received the text message, but my mother. And it was not Lydia and Jackson who accompanied her; instead it was Mr. Stilinski. There was no Scott-going-off-to-be-a-matyr-like-his-much-cooler-and-older-sister, but instead there was Scott-not-resisting-the-alpha's-demand-and-slaughtering-everyone-near-and-dear-to-him.

I don't know why my mind warped what it did- or no, maybe I do. Maybe it's because what happened in After is everything I fear. Maybe it's because Scott, killing the sheriff, our mother, and Stiles is the worst thing imaginable. Maybe that's why After turns out the way it does; maybe it's because it literally _is_ my worst nightmare.

And maybe (definitely) my subconscious is an asshole.

But anyway, I don't want to tell you all of the gory details of After. I don't want to think about it anymore than I already do; but know this… Know that Stiles is the last to die. Know that his death is by far the most horrifying thing I have ever or will ever see. Know that I scream and cry and wail _every time _as I watch it happens; helpless and heartbroken and terrified. Know that I would much rather die myself than have that particular part of After be a reality. And most of all, know that every time I dream of After I grow more and more thankful to have Stiles (living, breathing, handsome, funny, and wonderful Stiles) in my life.

So yes, while I hate Mr. Harris, there is one thing I hate more… After. And hey, since we're talking about my mental instability since that night at the school:

Third place on the Things Vanessa Hates list is the therapy I'm being forced into because of my ever-prominent and persistent PTSD. You would think, as a teenage girl, I would love complaining to a stranger about the woes of my life for an hour straight twice a week, but I don't. In fact, I really, r_eally_ don't. If I was in therapy last year I would think it's great, I mean seriously _you get to complain for one hour straight without anyone telling you to shut up or get over it_, but things are different now. I can't tell Dr. Franks about my nightmares because that would mean telling Dr. Franks about the reality of lycanthropy and the truth about Laura Hale's death- and I'm not saying he would believe me because he _wouldn't_ but then Dr. Franks would think I'm actually crazy. Like, certifiable… and I didn't want that.

As angsty as this sounds, I just wish things were different. I wish I didn't have to keep all of this bottled up. I wish I could have a therapy session that _felt_ therapeutic. I wish I could talk about After with Dr. Franks because I sure as hell can't talk about it with Scott or Stiles or Allison or Lydia and _certainly_ not Mom. I just… wish things were different. I really, _really_ wish things were different.

Life was kind of sucking right now. Studying with Stiles was nice, don't get me wrong, but between that, therapy, my slow-healing injuries, ever-present exhaustion, the stress of Derek Hale being on the run from the law, Dad's engagement announcement, and my sudden bout of depression, I have no social life whatsoever. Not to mention Jackson's determination to figure out _how_ exactly Scott's suddenly like, superhuman. It was all just getting to be _too much_. I feel like I'm on the verge of exploding, and it's not even like I can talk about it with my therapist! Well okay, I did whine about my father and Ingrid but in the grand scheme of things their budding family was all kinds of insignificant, so it's not like at the end of those session I felt any better!

But anyway, the overwhelming feeling of too-muchness with no outlet lead to a ton of baths, online shopping for things I don't need nor want, and constant early 2000s songs played on repeat.

"Nessa we have to go!" I hear my brother call up from the first floor.

I groan loudly and unattractively in response before muting Lisa Loeb's angelic vocals and shutting down my laptop. "Coming!" I shout while grabbing my nearly empty backpack from my desk. Pens and pencils jangled together as I descended the stairs, and despite my exhaustion I managed to give my brother a wide, toothy smile.

"What's got you so happy?" Scott asks curiously with a furrow of his brow.

"After today we're done with finals," I state while exiting through the front door. "It's smooth sailing from here on out."

"Yeah," Scott agrees with a sad sigh, "but it's not like we're going to actually _pass_ Chem."

I shoot him a disgruntled look over my shoulder while hopping onto his rusting bike's back pegs before replying, "Speak for yourself."

"Hey," Scott perks up; nearly making me lose my grasp on his shoulders, "can I copy off of you?"

"You would if I said 'no' anyway," I smile with a roll of my eyes.

"Thanks, Ness."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You have forty-five minutes to complete the test."

Yes, Mr. Harris; we can clearly see that written on the board.

"Twenty-five percent of your grade can be earned right now just by writing your name on the cover of your booklet. Every year at least one student inexplicably fails to put your name on the cover, and every year I am left once again questioning my decision to become a teacher." Harris looms over Stiles, his hands posed on his hips as usual, and scowls down at the short-haired boy with malice. "By your name I mean the name written on your birth certificates; first and last, no initials, and no nicknames." Lucifer moves on now; giving me the perfect view of Stiles' scowl as he angrily scratches _Fearganainm _onto the cover page of his packet.

I slap my hands to my mouth in an attempt to muffle my snort of amusement, but the simple action of that catches Stiles' attention. His glare is met with my mirth and my shoulders shake silently with laughter at his unfortunate first name.

"Let's get this disappointment over with," Harris all-but shouts from the front of the classroom; catching everyone's attention. "Begin!"

Okay, Question 1: What are compounds?

Compounds are pure substances and not mixtures. They are made of atoms of two or more elements and-

"Sit down Mr. McCall!"

My eyes look up from my paper and as Scott bolts out of the room I let my pencil drop and go to do the same.

"In your seat McCall!"

Screw you, Mr. Harris.

"Scott!" I shout while entering the empty hallway.

"_In your seat, Stilinski!_"

"Where'd he go?" Stiles asks while pointedly shutting the classroom door behind him.

I spot my twin's backpack discarded a few yards down the hall and run towards it before glancing around and spotting a door swinging shut. I only paused briefly when I realized it was the door leading into the boy's locker room.

"Scott?" I call softly while entering the scene in which After takes place.

The sound of running water could be heard over the shadows of my nightmares, so I trudged on towards the showers with my breath held and heart racing.

As I slowly trek deeper into the locker room I become submerged in After. Blood stains tiled walls and locker doors hang disastrously from their hinges. My mother's screams pierce the already full air; making my heart stutter and muscles tense uncomfortably. _I need to get out of here. I need to get out of here._

"Vanessa?"

"Stiles," I sigh while turning to look at my friend. His presence brings me to reality and out of After, and so I refocus on the task at hand.

"Scott!" I shout while padding into the showers; Stiles right behind me. "Oh my god, Scotty!" I gasp while rushing to my twin's side; not at all caring that my clothes would be ruined by the simple action. I turn the water-spicket to the left, effectively cutting off the shower, before helping my brother to the floor.

"I can't," he rasps. "I can't _breathe_!"

Stiles kneels before us while taking something from Scott's backpack which he, assumedly, picked up on the way in here. I watch with wide eyes as he shakes the object before bringing it to Scott's mouth and pressing down twice.

Scott's puffer?

"I was having an asthma attack?" my twin questioned in surprise once his breathing calmed.

"No," Stiles sighs with apparent relief. "You were having a panic attack, but because you _thought_ you were having an asthma attack, your panic attack stopped."

"How'd you know how to do that?" Scott asks with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

"I used to get them after my mom died."

I wince at Stiles' words as memories of Amelia's wake overcome my thoughts and mind…

**Author's Note!**

**Most, if not all, of next chapter will be a flashback. It'll be the "Vanessa being there for Stiles like he is for her" thing I told you about a few chapters ago. It may/may not be a tear-jerker depending on your multitude of wuss-ness (I am a huge wuss and cry over anything remotely sad) but I won't make it too overwhelming. The setting is simple: Amelia Rose Stilinski's (like the middle name? I thought it just brought everything together) wake and funeral. I don't know if they specified when Mrs. Stilinski died in the show, but I decided to make it happen during the winter break of seventh grade.**

**Onto Review Replies!**

**Fluffyfluffyboomboom- I'm glad you liked my choosing of D.W., and ecstatic you enjoy the thought of Karen Gillan as Stiles' mom. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Cherry0327- Lol, yeah these past few days I've been updating like a wild-woman! Since I was on holiday break I figured I may as well bang a few chapters out, and since today I stayed home from school (stupid intestinal illnesses!) I wanted to post another one. I'm glad you liked everything you caught up on, though, and hope you like this chapter just as much! I actually wasn't going to put Vanessa's confession in, or her epiphany that yes she's **_**in love**_** with Stiles at all, but I figured in what she thought were her dying moments she would make a grand gesture like that. I mean, how much would it suck to die without letting the person you love know you love them? Well, Vanessa didn't actually tell Stiles; she told Scott to tell him (who didn't due to the fact Vanessa lived), but still! Stinessa romance will come soon; be patient! I love romance but I don't want this story to be based solely on Stinessa. Don't worry though, there will be some major happenings at Winter Formal… **

**Mcgonagiggles- Collin McCall is an asshate and I hate him but being as I have an asshat for a father I totally understand how Vanessa can hate and love her dad simultaneously. I can't wait to hear your thoughts on Collin and Ingrid's engagement. I didn't really make a big deal out of it in this chapter, but the wedding will come sooner than you think. I'm glad you like D.W. for Collin, too! Stiles' name is both hilarious and bittersweet. Hilarious because it's seriously impossible to pronounce (probably not true but it sure looks that way) and bittersweet because in the show they say he was named after his mother's father. I'll touch a little bit on that next chapter during the flashback, though, so I hope you like it! I actually have never seen another fanfic where the author gives Stiles a first name, and although I hate knocking other people's ideas to me the name Genim just doesn't work. I mean, Coach Finstock in the show turned Stiles' file upside down in an attempt to pronounce/read Stiles' name, and Genim just seems too easy to say. About Karen Gillan (Stiles' mom's faceclaim), I'm glad you can see the resemblance! I didn't watch Doctor Who much while she was the companion, but Tumblr kind of shoves Doctor Who down your throat whether you watch it or not. Whew, okay, finally: Don't ever question your sanity for making a joke! From what I can tell you're hysterical! Thank you for being such an awesome reader and I hope you liked this chapter!**

**Ceramt- I'm happy to hear about your obsession, LOL! I hope this infatuation with SOG leads to you shipping Stinessa. Ugh, I just love them so much. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you liked this chapter as much as you liked my other ones!**

**Kat- Never ever, ever apologize for stating your opinion; even if it's negative! I love hearing from you guys; even if I'm hearing criticism! And besides, you said it in such a nice way that it's only constructive! Honestly I'm thankful you're being honest with me. As a writer all I want to do is improve and feedback helps me do just that! I hope all the questions you asked were answered in this chapter (when I posted the last one I had intended for this one to be finished much faster than it was, so my apologies for leaving things confusing yesterday) but if you have any more feel free to ask! As far as the naming of my characters; J.K. Rowling taught me at a very young age just how important a character's name is. It's a way to express who that person is! Like with Remus Lupin! Lupin is a name derived from the Latin word "lupus" which is translated to "wolf", and as I'm assuming you know, Remus was a werewolf! I don't know, the naming of characters, even insignificant characters, has just always been important to me. Even Stephanie Meyer (I don't know your opinion on Twilight, I love the movies but I personally think Stephanie's writing is mediocre at best) put thought into naming the personification of the term Mary-Sue! I mean, Bella! Italian for **_**beautiful**_**! Okay, sorry for rambling; back to your actual comments. I'm really glad you liked chapter 24; it's definitely one of my better works. I hope you liked this one just as much! Your "cotton headed ninny muggings" comment made me giggle for a while; I love love love elf! Lol, thank you for being so awesome!**

**Wemaketheperfectteam- Ah, the keyboard slam; the most poetic of all slams used to express your feelings. I'm glad my writing evoked such a powerful emotion, lol! I hope you liked this chapter!**

**Shout out to XLostxinxWonerlandX314 for pointing out that Karen Gillan is, in fact, NOT IRISH but SCOTTISH and suggesting a beautiful song which lyrics capture Vanessa's essence perfectly! Everyone should go check out the song, it's Look At Those Eyes by Alexz Johnson.**

**See ya'll soon, and DFTBA.**

**(DFTBA is Nerdfighter slang for "Don't forget to be awesome". God, I love John and Hank Green)**

**(Everyone should go watch their Youtube channel they're the Vlogbrothers)**


	27. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

There was not a doubt in my mind that Amelia was an angel. Maybe that's why whatever greater being is up there took her from us; because angels are too great to walk the earth amongst mortals. Maybe that's why she had to leave us so young.

I've gone to my fair share of funerals; Great Uncle Alan's, Great-Nana's, Papa George's, and although they were sad and although I shed tears, none of their deaths felt as heartbreaking and earth-shattering as Amelia's. I always thought death only happened when you get old, but looking down now at Lia's smooth, pale, and youthful face showed me otherwise.

"C'mon, sweetie," Mom whispers while giving me a gentile push away from the open casket. "It's time to move on."

I don't think she realized the double meaning of her words, but as I allowed her to prompt me away from a woman who I'd come to think of as a second mother or even older sister, it was all I could think about. Move on? How could I ever move on? I look over my shoulder to Scott and Dad who approach Lia with solemn hesitance for a moment before facing forwards once more.

There are pictures of Amelia everywhere; five collages, countless picture frames, and even displayed scrap books, and I couldn't help but think: _Move on? These pictures will haunt us like ghosts; reminding everyone every day that Amelia was here but then taken. How can you move on from something like this? How can you continue living when she's not?_ Mom went to get in the queue of lined people waiting to give Mr. Stilinski their condolences, and no matter how much I wanted to hug the sheriff, tell him I love him and that I'm sorry and that I wish more than anything Lia was still alive… I don't. There are too many people here; too many eyes to witness my tears. I've never seen a funeral home so crowded, but really that isn't surprising. Every person Lia met loved her.

I know that sounds like a bunch of bullshit; everyone only says nice things after someone dies, but with Lia it's true. From her Scottish lilt, awkwardness, short attention span, kind heart, and wonderful sense of humor it was impossible not to like her. It seemed like everyone in Beacon Hills was here; even the mean cashier Becky at Stop and Shop. Everyone loved Lia. Everyone. And even though that's nice and wonderful and heartwarming I just _wish_ this had been a private service. Maybe that makes me selfish. Maybe I _am_ selfish but… I just don't think people who met her once or twice in passing had the right to mourn her like I did.

"Do you see Stiles?"

I turn away from the collage I'd been staring and to my brother. "No," I answer with a shake of my head. "He's probably hiding out somewhere. I would be."

"I'm gonna go check the bathroom," Scott informs me before briskly walking away; leaving me by my lonesome once more.

I almost call out to him; almost tell him to leave Stiles alone. That if he's hiding out he wants to be alone, but then I catch sight of the sheriff in between mourners and my words die at my throat. He looks awful. Worse than awful, actually. His eyes appeared glassy and pink, and it was obvious he was holding back tears. He dressed to the nines but it didn't matter; sleepless nights were showcased by purple bags beneath his eyes, and his skin sat differently on his face than it did just days before. He looked like he wanted to die; like he wished more than anything to be in a coffin right beside Lia's. I bet he did. I bet he really, really did.

"She was such a beautiful girl," an elderly voice began beside me, "my little Rose."

My neck _pops!_ from turning my head so fast. "Alaina," I greet while looking down to the red headed Scott. "Hi."

Stiles' grandmother's beautiful eyes, eyes he had inherited, turn away from the collage before us before focusing on me with a happy twinkle. "She was so beautiful, wasn't she?" Alaina questions with a close-lipped smile.

"She still is," I reply quietly while looking over the old woman's shoulder and to her daughter's casket.

Alaina takes my right hand in her left and squeezes me gently; catching my attention once more. "That she is, love," the woman whispers as tears collect in her eyes. "That she is."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alaina kept me at her side throughout every service. One of her hands always encased my own, and whenever we were approached she would tighten her grip like a vice. I'm not sure if that was meant to comfort me or herself. What I do know, however, is that it did both. I'd met the woman a total of seven times before, every birthday of Stiles' I'd gone to since we met, but I felt closer to her than I did anyone else in the room. Alaina told me stories of Amelia I'd never heard before; childhood stories Lia had been too young to remember. It was wonderful, and as I laughed at funny parts I began to think that maybe pictures and stories aren't ghosts at all, but rather precious gifts to be cherished.

It was nice; I liked thinking of things that way.

Scott must have found Stiles because at one point I saw them seated together with my dad on a couch in the corner of the room. They were talking about something that made them use grand hand gestures and speak passionately, and my dad was obviously leading the conversation, so I was really thankful he was there. I'd have to thank him later. Dad's good at small-talk; making him really useful in times like these. From the way he and the boys were talking I assumed their conversation was about what it usually is.

Lacrosse.

A small part of me wanted to join them, but I couldn't leave Alaina by herself. Her husband had passed long before Stiles was born, and with Amelia as her only child she had no one to keep her company. The sheriff was swarmed by mourners nonstop, which I guess was nice because it provided a distraction, but that meant if I wasn't with Alaina; no one would be with Alaina, and I didn't want that.

What I also didn't want, however, was to be towed around like luggage.

"I shouldn't be up here," I hiss while attempting to tug my hand out of Alaina's hold futilely. "I'm not family."

"You're as much family as I am," Alaina snaps back while forcing me down onto the bench.

We were in a different part of the funeral home now, and this room looked like a church. It was even shaped like a cross, oddly enough, which made me feel uncomfortable and judged. Anyway, a priest would be coming out to speak any moment now, so the pewters were starting to fill with Amelia's friends and family, which is fine but there's an unspoken rule about funerals and wakes that says family gets the first two rows while everyone else fends for themselves.

"Alaina-" I begin, only to be cut off by the sharp-tongued woman.

"That's enough. Now shut up and sit with an old, mourning woman like you should."

The sounds of playing organs rang out, and for a moment there was a scramble of people looking for seats before everything quieted and Amelia's casket, now closed, was wheeled into the chapel followed by an easel holding a large picture of Lia and Sheriff Stilinski, looking young and happy and in love, holding their newborn baby boy.

I heard Stiles' sharp intake of breath eleven people and an aisle down, and tense up in response.

"Amelia Rose Stilinski was many things," Father Mathews begins while stepping up to the podium. "A loving mother, devoted wife, and kind woman to all."

I have to fight back a smile when my mind instinctually imagines what Lia would say in response to the priest's words. It would be something along the lines of: _I'm more than my ovaries, you great buffoon! _and would without a doubt be accompanied by a cross-eyed face and obscene hand gesture. Lia always made it a point to tell me that girls are more than females whenever Scott and I were at the Stilinski's. Being the only girl in our trio Amelia took a special interest in me. The sheriff said it was because she was a Women's Rights activist in college, to which Lia would respond, "I'm still a Women's Rights activist, ya numpty."

My silent musings must have drown out Father Mathews' words, because by the time I was in the present once more he was prompting the sheriff to come up at speak.

"My wife was more than just my wife," Mr. Stilinski began in a trembling but contradictory strong voice; giving a pointed look at Father Mathews that Lia would undoubtedly swell with pride over. "You will never meet another person as beautiful and funny and odd as Lee-Lee," the sheriff stated while looking out tearfully to a sea of, I'm sure, unfamiliar faces. "I don't think she ever realized just how unprecedented she was."

Stiles stood abruptly, gaining everyone's attention, before storming out of the funeral home and through the exit door; positioned right where Jesus' feet would be. The mourners turned back to Mr. Stilinski, unsure what to do, before settling back in once the police officer began to speak once more.

"Sorry," I apologize in a whisper while pulling my hand out from under Alaina's, "I've got to go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Stiles!" I shout while hugging my velveteen dress more tightly around my already shivering frame. "Stiles, where are you?"

My eyes scan the dimly like parking lot, illuminated solely by street lights spaced yards apart, while watering due to the harsh wind. I stumble down the funeral home's brick stairs, careful not to slip on any ice or piling snow, and spot a set of footprints out of the corner of my eye. It had only just begun to snow, and no one else would be out here besides Stiles, so I follow the impressions in the snow around the corner of the building and up a damp alley way.

"Stiles," I breathe while looking down to the crumpled and sobbing boy. "It's okay," I soothe while dropping to my knees beside him; scraping my tight clad joints in the process but not at all caring. "I'm here," I assure him while wrapping my arms around his curled frame.

"She's dead!" Stiles sobs while opening up from his fetal position so he can hug my middle tightly. "My mom's _dead_!"

What do you say to something like that?

"I'm here," I repeat softly while running my fingers through his short hair. "I'm here."

"Promise you won't leave me," Stiles hiccups while burying his face into my shoulder. "Promise you'll stay with me."

"Always," I whisper while hugging him closer. "Always."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't know what happened. I looked at her and it was like someone hit me with a truck."

I inhale sharply and look wide eyed around the locker room; suddenly back in 2012 and out of my memories.

"It's called heartbreak," Stiles snarks, "about two billion songs about it."

"I can't stop thinking about her," Scott whines, but I can't tear my eyes away from Stiles.

"Well think about this," the pale teen begins, "her dad's a werewolf hunter and you're a werewolf! No offence Scott, but it was doomed from the start!"

"Vanessa?" my twin questions suddenly as his hand reaches out to grab one of my own.

"What?" I ask in a dazed tone while meeting his concerned eyes.

"Why are you crying?"

I reach up to touch my face and, sure enough, there are tears there. I look between my brother and Stiles for a moment with a furrowed brow before throwing my arms around their shoulders and pulling them in for a tight group hug.

"I don't know," I answer thickly. "But I love you guys, okay? Just know that I love you guys."

**Author's Note!**

**So this is short and not nearly as nicely written as I'd hoped it would be, but I'm still pretty satisfied with it. It was a real challenge writing Seventh Grade Vanessa, and although there aren't many differences there were a few.**

**I wanted to show you guys that, as afraid of abandonment as Vanessa is, Stiles is just as insecure. He needs her to be his rock just like she needs him to be her's, but they're both scared to do more in the fear of being left. It's definitely a ridge they will have to cross, but how that happens and how smoothly it goes is for me to know and you to, obviously, not know. Don't get discouraged though, by the time this story is finished Stinessa will get their happily ever after like they both deserve.**

**I don't know where Alaina came from, to be honest. I was just writing and BOOM- Stiles' grandmother appeared. I don't have a faceclaim for her but I imagine her to be very short, wrinkly, and redheaded. Hey, did you guys know Alaina is a Gaelic name that means "rock"? It is.**

**The answer of how Amelia Rose Stilinski died will be revealed in a few chapters, and it will take place on the three year anniversary of her death. I wrote the funeral during the trio's holiday break because I wanted to spend time with this sub-plotline and I figured there was no better way to do that than visiting Amelia's grave and another flashback! Don't worry though; this isn't going to be one of those stories where everything's sad and every**_**one**_**'s sad and we all just wallow in self-pity and angst. No sir-ry, there will be a cute Stinessa moment to break up the sadness!**

**Hope you liked this chapter, hope ya'll like next chapter, and make sure you review!**

**Also, how do you like the new banner-thingy for this story? It's still Vanessa's faceclaim Sarah Hyland but it's a different picture of her. If you guys find any other nice ones on the interwebs, link me! Also I wouldn't be opposed to receiving any banners made by you guys… that would be really awesome, actually.**

**Oh, and one more thing! The record of most views in one day for this story was absolutely SMASHED yesterday by more than 700 views! I'm so proud and thankful! I hope we continue to reach new heights as time goes on!**

**Xoxo**

**DFTBA**


	28. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

After reassuring the boys I was fine, just a little emotional right now ("Why?" Scott had asked. "I'm on my period," I had answered; which was a lie, but a believable one, so whatever) we decided to ditch the rest of our Chem. midterm. There was no point anyway; Harris had already failed us the moment we got out of our seats. I wasn't too concerned about one failing grade though; the worst that could happen is my overall average would be bumped down to the higher seventies- and really, that was _worst_ case scenario. Mom wouldn't be too happy, but in comparison to Scott's grades she couldn't really punish me.

Speaking of my educational inept twin; there was something really strange going on with Scott. He'd said his panic attack hadn't been brought on by heartbreak, but instead it was as if all of his senses were heightened to extreme measures.

"I could feel everyone in the room; all of their emotions," Scott explained.

Stiles reassured him it was just because tonight would be a full moon, and although that seemed logical I still had the nagging feeling something bad was going to happen tonight. I wasn't sure if it was a premonition or just anxiety, but I took half of one of my prescribed anti-anxiety medications regardless.

"Hey Vanessa, can I sit with you?"

I look up from the boys' lacrosse practice and to Allison's hesitant face. I couldn't help but wonder what she was doing here, she and my brother were on a "break", but it was nice to see the girl anyway. I wasn't mad she broke up with Scott, not because I _wanted_ it to happen, but because I understood where she was coming from.

"Sure," I smile while patting the cold metal beside me. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for Jackson," Allison answers with a grin.

My brow skyrockets at the news, and after a glance out into the field I knew Scott heard her as well. "Oh?" I prompt. "Are you guys a thing, now?"

"No!" the pale girl denies urgently with a shake of her head. "Oh, god no. We're just friends. He's been really nice to me after… everything that's happened."

"Well from my experience," I begin slowly, "Jackson Whittemore is never nice to someone without an ulterior motive."

"Well from _my_ experience," Allison snaps, "Jackson's never lied to me or locked me in a classroom!"

Shrill whistling cut through the air; catching my attention and pulling me to my feet. "Danny!" I exclaimed in surprise while rushing down the bleachers' steps. "Oh my god," I kneel beside the injured player and help him take his helmet off; revealing a bloodied nose and lip.

"You okay, man?" Jackson asks with surprisingly genuine concern. Well, okay, maybe it isn't that surprising. Danny _is _his best friend, but still… seeing Jackson be caring is weird to say the least.

"Yeah," Danny answers with a groan as me and another teammate help him into a seated position.

"I'm gonna kill McCall," Jackson growls, and even_ I_ can't help but agree.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Where's Scott?" I question while approaching a freshly showered and changed Stiles with a furrowed brow.

"I don't know," he answers while rubbing a hand over his shaved head. "He sort of freaked out and took off."

"I didn't see him leave," I say in confusion.

"Because he took the window," Stiles sighs while grabbing my right wrist and leading me off towards the parking lot. "I think he went to your house."

"Okay," I nod while my face heats at his touch. "How'd the whole 'chaining him up' plan go over?"

"Not too well," Stiles grimaces while unlocking the passenger's side door for me. "The chains fell out of my locker before practice so now everyone thinks we have some weird S&M thing going on."

"Oh my god," I laugh incredulously with a blushing face. "Is _that_ why Matt kept looking at me weird?"

My and Stiles' relationship status, to the general public of Beacon Hills, was closed. If you asked anyone outside of us, Scott, Allison, and Lydia they would tell you that Stiles and I are a couple and believe it as fact. I didn't mind it, and I figure Stiles didn't either being as he never corrected them.

"Matt kept looking at you weird?" Stiles questions with pursed lips while yanking the Jeep's door open.

"Yes," I answer with a roll of my eyes. "Calm down. He's a hormonal teenage boy who now thinks I'm into chains and whips; you'd be staring too."

I watch as too rolls his eyes, shuts my car door, and then enters the driver's side.

"Yes," he begins while putting the keys into the Jeep's ignition before turning to me with a wink and smile, "but I would be discreet about it."

"Oh yeah," I say sarcastically, "because you're just so _smooth_."

"I'm smooth!" Stiles persists while glancing at me with wide and energetic eyes. "I'm like _silk_!"

I guffaw loudly at his words before pointing a finger at him as if he'd just proved my point. "See!" I exclaim with a laugh. "So not smooth!"

"Mhm," Stiles hums disbelievingly. "You'll see."

"Yeah?" I question with an upwards quirk of my left brow. "And when will that be?"

"Winter Formal," he answers confidently. Just the mention of our date (which may or may not be an actual_ date_ but whatever) brings a large, too-big smile on my face. "So what color tie should I wear?" Stiles asks; pulling me from my euphoric thoughts.

"Hmm," I hum while looking out to the road with a furrowed brow. "Anything really; but no green, or pastels, or white, or-"

"So black, then," my friend interrupts with a joking edge to his tone.

"Yeah," I reply with an accompanying eye roll. "Black."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey guys," Mom greets as we enter the house while angling her body so she can comfortable view us from the couch. "Where's Scott?"

"Finstock wanted to talk to him about a play or something," I lie expertly. "I don't know exactly; he's really involved now that he's co-captain."

"That's good," Mom smiles. "It'll look good on colleges too." Stiles and I walk deeper into the house as she stands and slips into her coat. "Tell your brother I love him," Mom orders while giving me a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Have fun at work!" I call out after her as she exits the house with a wave.

"I don't know how you do it," Stiles sighs incredulously with raised brows as we ascend my house's staircase. "You're like, weirdly good at lying. It's concerning, actually."

"Yeah, well," I say noncommittally with a shrug of my shoulders; not wanting to delve into why exactly I'm an expert liar. I mean, it isn't hard to lie to other people when you've done it to yourself for years.

"Let's wait for- Scott!" I shriek while entering his room; surprised at his silent and creepy demeanor.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?" Stiles questions in a pitched tone. He'd obviously been scared by my brother's presence as well.

"Nevermind that," I dismiss while fully entering my twin's bedroom. "Scott, we've got to get you chained up."

"I'm not some _dog_," my brother growls in poorly suppressed anger.

"I know," I sigh with an apologetic smile while flipping on a small lamp standing on his night table. "But Derek's been missing for days and I just don't think it's safe for you to be roaming around without him nearby."

I take a seat on my brother's bed as Stiles places his gym bag on the floor, and for a moment all that can be heard is the sound of chain links hitting together.

"It'll be alright," I reassure my twin while reaching out to encase his hands in my own. "We'll be right here with you."

"I don't want to be chained!" Scott shouts while ripping his appendages out of my grasp as his eyes flash gold.

I hiss sharply as a sudden slicing pain overtakes the palm of my right hand. "Ow!" I gasp while pulling the wounded appendage to my chest. "You clawed me!"

"Scott!" Stiles shouts in an angry tone. "What the hell?"

"I need to take care of this," I say while getting to my feet and attempting to keep the pooling blood in my hand from spilling over. One drop splatters on the hardwood floors though, despite my efforts; and the next thing I know Scott has me pinned against the wall by my throat; halfway transformed. I make a strangled sound as my eyes grow wide with fear. "Scott-?"

"Get _off _of her!" Stiles orders while slapping a handcuff on my brother's wrist; the one just under my chin. Stiles then yanks hard on the restraining object, causing Scott to drop to the grown, and links the other cuff onto a leg of Scott's radiator. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouts down to my twin. "You could kill her!"

Without thinking I bring my injured hand to my neck; smearing blood there and on my sweater. "Fuck," I hiss while pulling my bleeding appendage away and looking down to my brother in shock.

"I-I didn't mean to," Scott stutters with wide, innocent, and scared eyes. "Vanessa I'm so sor-"

"I am so sick of hearing your apologies!" I interrupt as tears well in my eyes. "Fuck, Scott! I can't even be around you anymore without getting hurt!"

"Vanessa-!"

"I have to clean myself up," I announce before rushing from the room and towards my bathroom.

As I run cold water over my hand I wince at the sound of Stiles' shouts.

"Every time!" he bellows suddenly. "Every fucking time, Scott, you hurt her! That's your _sister_! And we just keep forgiving you; saying 'oh, it's just the full moon, in a few hours he'll be back to normal and probably won't even remember what an abusive, mean, shitty, piece-of-crap person he's being!' Well I'm _done_ making excuses for you! Done!"

I jump at the sound of a door slamming and clench my eyes with a cringe; sending a few tears tumbling down my cheeks, before jumping once more when my bathroom door opens.

"Are you alright?" Stiles asks in a soft and soothing tone.

I glance quickly to him out of the corner of my eyes before forcing a smile and nodding. "Fine," I sniffle while inspecting the (thankfully) shallow cuts on my right hand. "Are you?" I question in concern.

"No," Stiles replies gruffly while rummaging my medicine cabinet. "Give me your hand," he demands after pulling out a bottle of disinfectant and a roll of gauze.

"I can do it-"

"Give me your hand," Stiles repeats sternly; leaving no room for argument. "Sorry," he apologizes after my sharp intake of breath at the pouring of the disinfectant on my wounds.

"It's fine," I reply in a tight voice. I watch as Stiles methodically wraps my hand in gauze before taping it off. Once it's done I pull my hand from his and quietly say, "Thanks."

"Take your shirt off," Stiles commands; making my eyes go wide in surprise.

"What?" I squawk disbelievingly.

He smiles rolls and his eyes while pulling a washcloth out from one of the sink's drawers. "You've got blood everywhere," he says while wetting the terrycloth square.

"I can do it myself," I reply.

"Dammit, Vanessa," Stiles snaps in frustration while meeting my eyes, "would you just let me take care of you?"

I lean back a fraction in surprise before obeying his request. "Okay," I say before pulling my ruined sweater over my head; revealing a lacy camisole underneath. Stiles wrings the soaked washcloth out before guiding me over to the toilet and forcing me to sit down.

"Sorry," he suddenly apologizes while dabbing my bloodied neck gently.

I look down to the crouched boy with a furrowed brow. "For what?"

"I just-" he exhales sharply in anger while looking pointedly at my upper chest. "I just keep letting him hurt you."

I grab Stiles' outstretched wrist quickly; making him meet my eyes with surprise. "You're not _letting_ him do anything," I say sternly. "Don't think like that, Stiles. This isn't your fault." Stiles simply purses his lips in obvious disagreement, and so I sigh and let my hand drop; allowing him to continue. My face suddenly flames when I notice a distinctive slip of Stiles' hand, and I look down to the boy with twitching lips. I'm unsure if I should tell him off or laugh at his contradictory sly boldness.

"Is this you trying to be smooth?" I question while raising my left brow expectantly.

A cheeky grin takes over the lower half of Stiles' face as his iced-coffee color orbs look up to me from under his eyelashes.

"Like silk," he says before tossing the stained washcloth into the basin beside us. "Like _silk_."

**Author's Note!**

**I hope you guys liked this chapter. It took me a couple of go's to get it right but I'm proud of the way it worked out in the end. Chapter Twenty-Seven will be up soon!**

**I've decided what song and dress I will be using for the Winter Formal, thanks to help of you lovely reviewers! Now, I know Ron Pope's A Drop In The Ocean was a popular pick, but two of the people who said that only chose it because it was the only song they knew (I thank them for telling me their opinions but I wanted something to be chosen and not just picked because it's known), so I disqualified their votes, and other's recommended that song as well but after going through all of the lyrics and envisioning what I plan to happen during Stiles and Vanessa's slow-dance I picked Distance by Christina Perri! As far as the dress/makeup/accessories go, only one person actually looked (shout out to Kat; an awesome and super nice reviewer) and I agreed with her choice! The set labeled 'Option 3 SOG Winter Formal' on my polyvore is what Vanessa will be wearing. I'm super excited!**

**Onto Review Replies!**

**Ohsolauren- (Response to Chapter 25's review) Don't be sorry about missing a review on a few chapters; I'm really thankful you review at all! Vanessa's nightmares are harsh, but I want them to be that way. In the show I feel like the writers made everyone too okay with death and all of the traumatic things the characters experienced, and I didn't want to do that. Vanessa will eventually open up about her nightmares, and it **_**will**_** be to Stiles, but how and when are still being decided. I'm doing research on PTSD so I can portray the illness accurately, but I'm trying to make it so Vanessa's nightmares and flashbacks don't overtake her life. **

**Mcgonagiggles- I'm glad you're looking forward to meeting Ingrid; I'm looking forward to introducing her! Just a heads up, though; don't expect her to be a **_**total**_** villain. Vanessa, although bitter, fully recognizes the fact that the "Other Woman" is not the only person at fault. She hates her father and Ingrid equally; the only difference is that there is no love for Ingrid mixed in as there is for Collin. As far as me not hearing any Genim naming for Stiles; I don't often find Stiles/OC fics I enjoy, so after a while I kind of check out and stop reading, so that could be a cause as to why I've never seen him named. Ah, I'm glad Tumblr forced you into the Teen Wolf fandom! On a personal note; I have Dylan O'brien's tag blacklisted because I get too fasifhas;hfaishfdusaihcasi sometimes when I see his cuteness. I'm glad the Doctor Who GIFS help you visualize Karen Gillan as Stiles' mom; they help me do that too. Her expressions are priceless and really that and her personality is what sold me on the faceclaim. I don't really know how Vanessa doesn't cling onto Stiles like a freaking octopus because of her nightmares, but once the events at Winter Formal and Vanessa's eventual confession about her nightmares there will be noticeably more touch and feels, if you know what I mean. Thanks for being an awesome reader!**

**Cherry0327- I'm so proud of the fact my writing made it impossible for you to "even"! I'm so flattered because (as a person who often uses that wonderful internet-born term) I know I hit you like, right in the feels! Lol. I'm glad you liked the sub-plotline I created and flashback, and really happy you're understanding the complexity of Stiles' and Vanessa's emotions. They both have baggage, and although Vanessa is much better at it, they both feel abandoned and scared in some sort of way. I've said it before and I'll say it again; this is really going to complicate their transition from friends to more-than friends, but in the end they'll get through it… together. (Ugh I'm sorry I'm so cheesy.) Thanks for the review!**

**Katherine- Yes, a fellow Nerdfighter! I was so happy to find out that you're a Nerdfighter because, French the llama, you're a Nerdfighter who **_**likes my writing!**_** Possibly the coolest thing that's ever happened to me over the internet. The irony of you having not read An Abundance of Katherines had me chortling quite unattractively for a while, but just the fact that your name is Katherine and John Green wrote a whole book about a girl named Katherine is just so awesome! Sometimes I wonder if it's weird that Hank's wife's name is Katherine, but then again I'm not sure if Hank and his wife were together during the time John wrote AAOK so… But anyway, speaking of amazing authors, I'm really happy you enjoy the way I pay attention to the meaning of names my characters have. Really everything I do is in some way inspired by J.K.. Ah, when I read that you hope I aspire to be an author I couldn't stop smiling! It's so nice to see people actually enjoying my work and hoping I succeed. To answer your question; I don't remember a time when I **_**didn't**_** want to write for a living. I've dabbled in journalism on my school's newspaper, poetry for a few literary magazines (and my mental health), screen writing just for fun, and, obviously, fiction, and so far I've loved all of it. I know whatever I end up doing (I'm looking into political science because over the past few years I've grown very interested in government) I will write while doing it; whether it is my profession or otherwise. Don't ever worry about rambling in a review; everything you said was relevant and I love ramblings the most! As you can tell it's all I really do, and I just think they're enjoyable to read and write. When I wrote "'She was such a beautiful girl,' an elderly voice began beside me, 'my little Rose,' it wasn't a typo. My head had already created a backstory for Alaina and Amelia, and in that backstory Alaina called her daughter Rose, which is her middle name, and became her special nickname. I could see how that would be confusing though, and I'm sorry it seemed that way! As far as another Collin scene, what with the engagement to Ingrid there will be many scenes to come! Family drama is always fun to write, and the dynamic between Vanessa and her father is really fun to explore. I'll be incorporating Scott into there as well, obviously, since he is Collin's son, although I'm not sure how to write his reaction to everything. It's already been established that Scott is indifferent to his father, but I doubt that will still be the case when Collin and Ingrid get married and pop out a little kid. Whew, that was a lot! If you didn't read all of it I understand; but know that I thank you for being an awesome reviewer and person!**

**Audrey- First off, let me just say I debated naming Vanessa Audrey for the **_**longest **_**time! This is so cool, lol. Anyway, although I had gotten the title for this story from the Taylor Swift song I don't want to write it in. Well, that's not entirely true; I think I'm going to put it in somehow, because of its significance, but not in the winter formal. I thought about it for a while though! I decided not to, though, because what I have planned wouldn't go well with the song. Thank you so much for the suggestion, though, and if you ever have any other's please leave them in a review! I'm glad you like this story and have stuck to it, and I hope you continue to enjoy SOG!**

**Okay, that was a lot! I'll see you guys next time and DFTBA!**


	29. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"I'm sorry," Scott apologizes for the umpteenth time. "Vanessa _please_. I'm so sorry."

Stiles takes my injured hand and holds it delicately as I inhale a shaky breath. Scott had been begging to be let out and for my forgiveness for an hour now, and it was _killing_ me. Every time my twin spoke I had to physically bite my tongue to stop myself from just getting up and unchaining him. The only thing keeping me remotely sane right now was Stiles' hand in mine; reassuring me that everything would be alright; that he was here and it would be alright.

"Dammit!" Scott suddenly roars; making me jump with fright. "Let me out!"

"Not gonna happen, Scott," Stiles responds while glaring hatefully at the door adjacent to us.

We'd parked ourselves out on the hallway floor; our backs against the wall and our fronts facing Scott's bedroom. We didn't want to go into his actual bedroom but we didn't want to abandon him completely. Sometimes I couldn't help but think Scott really didn't deserve us.

_Clang! _

I was on my feet and opening my brother's bedroom door without really thinking about it, and when I found it empty my eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"He's gone!" I exclaim while rushing over to the opened window Scott had obviously escaped out of. "We have to find him," I say while turning to face Stiles. "C'mon!" I prompt over my shoulder while rushing down my house's staircase.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

We'd been driving around nearly all night now; the sun would rise in just a few moments, and we hadn't seen hide or hair of my brother. To say I was worried would probably be the biggest understatement ever.

"School's gonna start soon," I announce while glancing down to my dying cellphone before looking to Stiles and rubbing my bare arms with a shiver.

"Want me to take you home?" my best friend asked with a yawn.

"Yeah," I say guiltily. "My attendance record can't afford another absence." Stiles makes a right down Mr. Fitz's street and I look out to the gray sky with tired eyes. After a few moments of silence I speak once more. "I'm so sorry about this," I sigh while running a hand through my disheveled hair in frustration.

"About what?" Stiles questions in confusion.

"My brother," I answer. "Last night he was… I mean- he's never been so-"

"It's his bloodlust," Stiles interrupts.

"I know," I reply while looking down to my bandaged palm. "But last night it was… different. Stiles he had me by the _throat-_"

"That'll never happen again," the sheriff's son cuts in.

"How do you know that, though?" I ask while angling my body towards his. "He broke Danny's nose, holed himself up in his bedroom like some serial killer, and then jumped me. It's like he's a completely different person!"

"He _is_ a completely different person," Stiles states. "During the full moon, anyway."

"No," I deny with a shake of my head. "Not just then. He used to be so innocent, Stiles. He's just a kid."

"You're the same age," Stiles laughs.

"Yeah," I acknowledge. "But we _both_ know Scott and I are very… different. I was the mean twin; the bitch. _I_ snapped at people,_ I_ lashed out. This isn't Scott. This isn't my brother."

"Is that why you're so upset?" Stiles asks while pulling into my driveway. He puts the Jeep's gear into park and turns to face me fully with a concerned expression. "You're afraid he's gonna end up like you?" My brow furrows and I open my mouth to deny his (accurate) assumption but he cuts me off by continuing. "Vanessa, that wouldn't be a bad thing."

"Yes it would," I protest immediately; spewing my thoughts without meaning to. Once the words are out I wince and put a hand to my forehead and curse, "Fuck. Don't respond to that."

"Jesus, Vanessa," Stiles admonishes with an exasperated shake of his head. "You really have a warped view of yourself, you know that?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snap defensively while bristling with anger.

"Nothing," Stiles answers with a roll of his eyes. "I just don't get why you can't see yourself like I see you."

My eyes widen marginally as I look deeply into Stiles' light orbs before I quietly question, "And how _do_ you see me?"

My breath catches in my throat when Stiles hesitantly cups the left part of my face and tilts my head upwards as his moves down. "You're amazing," he whispers while moving closer. "Vanessa-"

_Doo-doo! Doo-doo-doo! Doo-doo!_

"Shit," I curse while silencing the alarm set on my cellphone. When I look back up Stiles is on as far away from me as possible with his hands on the wheel and staring straight ahead. "Stiles I'm sorr-" I begin to apologize, only to be interrupted.

"I'll see you at school." His voice is tense, angry sounding, and it makes me feel confused and hurt.

"Yeah," I reply meekly while crawling out of the Jeep. He pulls out of the driveway not even a second after I close the passenger's door behind me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As I enter the house my mind races; replaying the moment that just occurred over and over again. I couldn't even bring myself to be happy over it. I knew Stiles was going to kiss me if my alarm hadn't gone off, I _knew_ it, but all I could think about was how much he obviously regretted trying. I mean, from his cold demeanor after we'd (thankfully) been interrupted by my iphone it was the only conclusion I could take away from the situation. Who even reacts like that? What, he couldn't just apologize or ignore it completely? He _had_ to snap at me; dismiss me as if I'd done something wrong? What the hell is that about?

As strange as it sounds; thank God he hadn't actually gone through with it. I don't think I could've emotionally been able to endure his rejection if we'd actually kissed.

But why had he even tried? Was it to comfort me? Was he just not thinking clearly due to our exhaustion? Or did he actually _want _to kiss me?

No, that last suggestion was preposterous. If Stiles actually wanted to kiss me then he wouldn't have acted the way he did.

Right?

I let out a groan of frustration while stamping up the stairs; not at all mindful of the amount of noise I was making. No one else was home, anyway.

"Vanessa?"

Or so I thought.

"Scott?" I hiss while narrowing my eyes on my twin brother. "What the hell; I've been out looking for you all night!"

"Sorry," the werewolf apologizes. "I-I fell asleep."

"That's nice," I snap sarcastically while brushing past the well-rested boy. "Glad at least one of us got some sleep last night. Too bad that one was you!"

"Vanessa," Scott begins in a pleading tone while catching me by the upper arm.

"_Do not!_" I roar while ripping myself out of his grip. "You are _not_ allowed to touch me! I don't even want to be around yo-"

"I almost killed Allison and Jackson last night!" Scott blurts; effectively interrupting my rant.

"W-what?" I stutter breathlessly.

"I would've," Scott confesses, "if Derek hadn't stopped me."

I stare at my brother's terrified face wide-eyed for a moment before shaking my head and backing up into my bedroom. "I don't want to deal with this right now," I say while attempting to close my door. "I have to get ready for school."

"School?" Scott questions shrilly while putting out a hand to stop my bedroom door from closing. "How can you even _think_ about school at a time like this?"

"Because it's the only normal thing in my life right now!" I explode while throwing my hands exasperatedly in the air. "Excuse me for wanting to have _one normal thing_!"

"Oh, you don't think I want to be normal?" Scott shouts. "You think I like being a werewolf, and hurting you, and Stiles, and wanting to kill Allison? You think I'm enjoying this?"

"Well in case you haven't noticed Scott," I begin loudly, "_I_'m not the werewolf here! You are!"

My brother glared down to me with silent fury for a moment before saying, "For someone who hates being left behind; you sure know how to abandon people."

He was slamming his bedroom door behind him before I even had a chance to respond.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Hi Lydia." I turn to look at the strawberry blonde take a seat beside me at the library table I'd claimed for myself. Her presence was unannounced but still welcomed. Holing out in the library to work on imaginary schoolwork in order to avoid Scott and Stiles was… depressing, to say the least. It'd been a while since I had the chance to really talk to Lydia anyway.

"What are you doing in here?" she asks while raising a perfectly plucked brow.

"Avoiding Stiles," I answer with a sigh while leaning forward and propping my head up with my arm lazily. "You?"

"Ooh," Lydia begins with a scandalized twinkle in her eyes, "trouble in paradise?"

If I wasn't dying to talk about it I would have called her out on her deflection. "That's an understatement," I sigh while looking down to my open and useless textbook. "He almost kissed me today."

"And that's a bad thing _how_?"

"We got interrupted and then he was just… mean, I guess. Cold. Distant." I heave out another sigh and meet Lydia's eyes once more. "He just keeps sending out mixed signals and I don't know what to do."

Her expression softens as she takes in my defeated demeanor before she questions, "Well what about you? What signals are you sending?"

I opened my mouth to reply before shutting it once more. Huh. "I don't know."

"Maybe he's just as confused as you are," Lydia shrugs while pursing her glossed lips together.

"I guess," I nod. "It doesn't matter, anyway though. There's too much going on right now to even think about-"

"Ness, there's_ always_ going to be something going on," Lydia interrupts with a roll of her eyes. "You don't have to make excuses. I get it; you're scared."

"I'm not scared!" I protest while squaring my shoulders and sitting up straight.

"Yes you are," Lydia says. "Anyway, I didn't come over here to be your therapist."

"Then why did you?" I snap in frustration and annoyance.

"So you can be _my_ therapist," the blonde smiles.

I roll my eyes but nod in acceptance anyway. "Okay, shoot."

"Jackson and Allison are boning."

"What?" I yelp in surprise.

"Y'know," Lydia begins, "going to pound-town." She then scrunches her nose and eyes me calculatingly for a moment. "Okay, _you_ don't know but still-"

"You think they're having sex," I interrupt with a scowl. "I get it."

"So what do you think I should do about it?"

"Nothing," I answer shortly. "Lydia, they're just _friends_. Allison's still hung up on my brother; anyone can see that."

"I know," Lydia replies. "That's why I kissed him."

"You _what_?" I whisper-shout; wary of the librarian Mrs. Shultz.

"Oh, relax," Lydia soothes with a dismissive wave of her hands. "It wasn't even that good."

"Okay," I begin while clenching my eyes tightly closed, "first of all; gross. Second of all; _gross_! Lydia, you can't just go around kissing my brother!"

"Why not?"

"That's my brother! My brother who is still very much in love with _your_ friend! Jesus, do you even _have_ a conscience?"

"No," Lydia answers breezily. "And don't worry about it; it was a one-time thing. Allison was walking by so I just thought-"

"'Hey, let's ruin the chances of them ever getting back together?'" I finish while narrowing my eyes at the blonde. "Ugh, I've got to go," I say while standing and gathering all of my things.

"What?" Lydia questions in alarm. "Where are you going?"

"To do damage control," I snap. "God, Lydia, how could you _do _that to them?"

"You don't even like her!"

"I don't like what she can do to my brother," I answer; telling the half-truth. "But what I don't like more is what you just _did_ to my brother. Bye Lydia."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I walk past the girl's bathroom and freeze at the sound of someone crying. I know from the person's hiccups who exactly they are, and as much as I don't want to deal with my brother's sobbing ex-girlfriend, it was the right thing to do.

"You look like shit," I state flatly while entering the lavatory and catching sight of Allison's mascara stained face.

She looks to me out of the corner of her eye before swiping a piece of toilet paper across her cheeks. "You don't look so hot yourself."

"This is true," I acknowledge while letting my book bag fall onto the tiled floor. "Lydia told me what she did. I'm sorry," I say while approaching the porcelain-skinned girl.

"She's supposed to be my friend," Allison hiccups. "How could she do that to me?"

"She thinks you're having sex with Jackson," I inform her while bending down to rummage through my backpack. "Here," I say while coming up with a small packet of make-up remover wipes. "They're for sensitive skin," I then add with a shrug.

"Thanks," Allison smiles while taking the packet from my hand. "I know you don't like me," she begins, "so this is really nice of you to do."

"It's not that I don't like you," I say while scouring my pack once more in search of my makeup bag. "You're really cool, actually. I just-" I inhale sharply; unsure of how to continue. "My family is broken, Allison. I've seen how easy relationships fall apart. I don't want my brother to get hurt." (And to be killed by your werewolf hunter family.) "But it's too late for that now, I guess. Because he is hurt."

"Vanessa-" Allison starts, but I interrupt her with a shake of my head.

"No, just let me say this, okay? Scott loves you. He's pretty miserable now that you're not together, and as mad as that makes me I get why you ended things." I watch as her brown eyes widen; startled by my words. "There are things you can't know Allison. It's not because he doesn't trust you, or because I don't trust you, but because it just wouldn't be safe."

"Is this about Derek Hale?" Allison questions.

"Inadvertently," I answer. "One day maybe you'll get it, or figure it out on your own, but… just know that the night of the school Scott thought I died, and everything he did was to make sure he didn't lose you too." I sigh and collect my things before throwing them into my backpack uncaringly as the bell rings overhead. "That's all I had to say. Bye."

**Author's Note!**

**Lydia's in the doghouse… I was unsure if I should write her kissing Scott in, in this story but then I realized I wanted a heart-to-heart moment between Allison and Vanessa. Vanessa wants Scott to be happy; she wants him to love without restraint instead of treading on eggshells the way **_**she**_** does. Vanessa knows the way she thinks about love is wrong, and she'll be damned if Scott ends up like that, too. And so she'll do anything to assure his happiness, even if it's with Allison.**

**Speaking of Vanessa's bad self-esteem warped view of the world, how'd ya'll like that Stinessa almost kiss? I'm not sure if I liked it, but I felt like it needed to be done. Vanessa needs to realize that in order for her and Stiles to take the next step in their relationship, she needs to put herself out there. The problem is, she's too afraid (not that she'll admit it) to do so. Hopefully Lydia had knocked some sense into her and made her realize some things.**

**Not a lot happened in this chapter, but at the same time, it did. I don't really know if that makes sense, but… *shrugs*. Let me know what you guys thought, tell me what you hope happens during the formal, and keep being awesome!**

**Review Replies!**

**Ohsolauren- I hoped you liked the (almost) Stinessa action in this chapter! Don't worry, there will be **_**actual**_** romance very, very soon! The formal is going to be chalk full of action and drama and romance and ugh, just everything! In the show everything just boils over during Formal, and the same will definitely be happening here in SOG! Don't get too comfortable hating Scott; he'll redeem himself soon enough. I keep writing him as an antagonist, but he really isn't. Scott really is just a kid, like Vanessa says in this chapter. In the pilot episode of Teen Wolf you could see how innocent he was, how naive and almost child-like, but as the show goes on you see how he slowly but surely loses some of that innocence. Vanessa is weary of her brother now, sure, but she understands him. He's growing up too fast; thrust into a mythical world no one ever believed existed. It's hard on him; part of the reason why Vanessa's suddenly an advocate of Scallison. They'll be some major brother-sister bonding in chapters to come, and Scott as time goes on will gain more and more control over his bloodlust. It's just, without Allison as his anchor; Scott lost what little control he did have. And with Derek MIA he just went crazy. I feel really bad for Scott's character, actually. Sure he's a little too obsessed with a new girl and relationship, but I feel like he grasps onto Allison because being a teenager and in love is the only sense of normalcy he has. Thank you so much for reviewing, please continue!**

**XLostxinxwonderlandX- I can't wait until Stiles and Vanessa finally get together as well, but just a warning; that will not be for a long while! I'm not saying there won't be any romance/fluff/whatever you wanna call it, but do not expect a title of "Dating" anytime soon. The kiss (yes, I am confirming during the night of the Winter Formal there will be a kiss) will hopefully tie you and everyone over for a while. There's gonna be a ton of revelations that chapter (or two chapters since I'm thinking about splitting it up into parts), and *hint hint* a seemingly fatal injury which will lead to more revelations and ewwy-gewwy cuteness and Stinessa scenes and just GAH a lot of emotions, lol. I really hope you like it, and thank you for the song suggestion! You really do have a great ear for that kind of thing!**

**Cherry0327- Ah, I'm so glad you like my story! If updates make your day then reviews like yours make mine! Happy you liked last chapter, and I hope you like this one just as much. Vanessa is always the one getting hurt, but as seen in this chapter she won't be taking it any longer! She's becoming fed up with listening to Scott's excuses. Still though, if Vanessa's injuries bring her and Stiles together I can't really complain. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Poergirl616- I hope I didn't disappoint you with this chapter! I know, I was unsure whether or not to have Scott jump on Vanessa like that; but I feel like his bloodlust would have just overridden his every emotion. Without Allison and Derek he definitely felt lost and powerless, so for a moment he gave into his wolf side. Plus, in the episode that took place in, Scott was like… a HUGE asshole to Stiles; really violent and just cruel, so I figure I'd switch it up a little so Vanessa's being there would change things. Anyways, thanks for the review and please continue!**

**Midnightquiver- Thanks for taking the time to read SOG! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far and hope you continue!**


	30. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

"Stiles?" I question curiously while approaching my locker; surprised to find him waiting for me. "What are you doing here?" It was the end of the day, and no matter how nice it was to see him, I just wanted to get home, do my homework, and take a long relaxing bath.

"I'm sorry about this morning," Stiles blurts with a panicked but apologetic tone.

"For trying to kiss me or being a dick about it afterwards?" I question boldly while squaring my shoulders and looking him in the eye.

Stiles' eyes widen in shock, and for a moment he's speechless before finally replying, "I don't know."

Ouch, that kind of hurt… but at least he was honest.

"Okay," I sigh with a nod as my shoulders slump in exhaustion. "You know how you can make it up to me, though?"

"How?" Stiles asks eagerly as I deposit a few of my books into my locker.

"By driving me home."

"Done."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey," I begin as the Jeep's engine roars to life, "do you know where my brother is?"

"Allison's," Stiles answers as we begin to exit the school's parking lot.

"Did they make up?" I question with raised brows. Maybe my talk with Allison went better than I thought?

"No," Stiles replies slowly while glancing to me out of the corner of his eye. "He went to go and steal the necklace."

"Necklace?" I echo. "What necklace?"

"Allison's necklace," he states in a confused tone. "Y'know, the one with the symbol Derek found in his sister's things?"

"Okay, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Didn't Scott tell you about the necklace?"

I heave out a long sigh and run my fingers through my tangled hair. "Scott and I got into a fight this morning," I inform Stiles. "We didn't really talk."

"Oh," the sheriff's son begins softly. "Is that why you skipped lunch today?"

"Amongst other things," I answer vaguely. "But that's not important. How the hell is Allison's necklace relevant, like, at all?"

By the time we'd arrived at my house I was fully informed about everything I'd, somehow, missed. Derek had come across things of Laura's, who had been investigating the alpha (who wasn't actually an _alpha_ then, since he gained that rank when he killed her), and in those things were leads. There were only two: the name Harris and a rough sketch of the symbol on Allison's necklace, but I had an inkling the two were connected. I didn't know how exactly Mr. Harris would be connected to the Argents, but being as Allison had said the necklace was a family heirloom, he had to be. I didn't think he was a hunter though, because he wouldn't have given up the information if that was the case. Still, it was concerning. I mean, _Mr. Harris_ connected to the alpha? It sent shivers down my spine.

"But why is Scott going to steal the necklace?" I ask as Stiles puts the Jeep in park.

"Derek wants to be sure that it's the same symbol," Stiles answers.

"Okay," I breathe while rubbing my eyes tiredly. "Thanks for the ride home," I say while going to open the passenger's side door.

"Wait, Nessa," Stiles begins while grabbing my upper left arm; locking me in place and gaining my attention. "I think we need to talk."

"About what?" I question.

Stiles gives me an unimpressed look. "You know what."

"If this is about you feeling weird for trying to kiss me-" I begin.

"I don't feel _weird_ about it," Stiles interrupts. "I just don't know _how _to feel about it."

"Well you seemed pretty sure you were angry this morning," I snap while settling down in my seat once more.

"I know," he sighs. "And I'm sorry. I just- I got scared."

My body sags as my expression softens at his confession. "Stiles," I begin quietly, "there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Yes there is," Stiles denies urgently. "Vanessa there's something different this year between us; you know there is."

Oh my god, is this really happening? I can't handle this. Not right now.

"Stiles," I begin in an apologetic tone that makes his face fall in a way that nearly breaks my heart.

"Unless…" he begins with wide eyes, "you don't think there is. In which case-"

"That's not it," I interrupt with a shake of my head. "I-," I let out a frustrated huff and tug at a lock of my hair sharply. "Stiles before you say anything I need you to figure out how you feel. You almost kissed me, okay? _You_ did that. And then you snapped at me. I get that you're scared but that isn't an excuse. I can't handle that. There's so much going on right now; so many things that are unsure and scary and new that I _can't_ afford to lose you as my best friend." I blink away the tears collecting in my eyes and wipe away the few that spill over. This talk had come quicker than I expected. "I need you, Stiles," I confess in a choked voice, "but I don't need any more confusion."

"So what does that mean?" he asks quietly.

"It means," I begin in a shaking voice, "that if you ever try to kiss me again you better be sure it's what you want."

I watch Stiles' face as my words sink in, and his expression relaxes before he nods in understanding. "Okay," he replies as his lips twitch upwards in a smile.

"Okay," I echo with a teary smile of my own. "I'll see you tomorrow."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Vanessa!"

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Vanessa!"

_Knock! Knock! Kn_-

"Mom?" I question deliriously while sitting up and reaching for a towel beside me.

Had I fallen asleep in the tub? From the ice cold water and my pruned body it sure looked that way. I stumble over towards the bathroom door and unlock it. My mother rushes into the bathroom with an exclamation of "thank god!" before planting herself on the toilet.

"I've been knocking on the door forever!" she informs me. "I thought I was gonna pee my pants!"

I look down to my mother and wrinkle my nose up in disgust. "I must have fallen asleep," I say with an unconcerned shrug. "Why didn't you just use Scott's bathroom?"

"Because I didn't think of it," Mom snaps; causing me to throw my head back with laughter.

"I'm gonna go finish up my homework," I say while wrapping my towel more securely around my body. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" Mom calls out after me as I pad softly towards my bedroom.

The rest of my afternoon had gone… strangely. I didn't know what to make of my and Stiles' interaction in the Jeep. I accepted his apology, sure, but I couldn't help but still feel hurt. He said he was confused about the way he felt about me, but what did that _mean_? Wouldn't a person know when they like someone else? Still, I decided to not look too into it. I'd been clear in telling him to sort out his feelings, and Stiles understood that. If he ended up not liking me back then… that would suck really, _really _bad, but I would get over it. At least I would know where he stood. It would be a lot easier than overanalyzing his every move and convincing myself that he did or didn't like me.

I was surprised he'd brought it up, though. Stiles isn't the most assertive person in the world, which made me hopeful that maybe he was more sure of his feelings than he was letting on. He'd said he was scared, so maybe that was the only thing holding him back? Or maybe it was both; he was scared and confused. I understood better than anyone how that can sometimes lead to rudeness. I mean, I do it at least twice a day. Besides, no matter how it seemed sometimes, Stiles isn't perfect. I mean, the kid picked his nose until fourth grade! Prime example of his inadequacy! I couldn't expect him to be caring and sweet and comforting all of the time no more than he could expect the same from it. To think of him that way was unfair. When I said I love Stiles I mean I love all of him; his meanness _and _his niceness, his good _and_ his bad. I don't want to be one of those girls who idolizes their crushes; who gets destroyed at even the smallest comment. Amelia would be disappointed if I turned out that way; especially over her son.

Honestly, Stiles isn't the only one who has to get his act together. I was becoming too submerged in the _idea_ of us instead of the _reality_ of us. Life isn't rainbows and butterflies, and even though I feel as if I know that better than anyone, I haven't been acting like it lately. My expectations for Stiles were becoming too much, and I'm afraid if he doesn't meet those expectations I would fall out of love for him and start to resent him for not being what I want… and nothing terrified me more than that.

Because _that'_s exactly what happened with my parents.

Damn, this kind of internal monologue _cannot_ be good for the soul.

Once fully decked in my favorite onsie, I put my iphone on its docking station and select my 'Emotional' playlist. The soothing sound of my favorite Daughtry song Start Of Something Good fills the air in my bedroom, and as I hum along to the eerily relevant lyrics I begin writing up the Chem. formal paper due tomorrow while thinking that this was probably the most peaceful night I'd had in a while.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I woke up this morning (the first night I hadn't experienced After since before the night we were trapped in the school) to the sight of a hot chocolate mug propped in front of my face and an apologetic expression from Scott.

It's safe to say it was one of my better mornings.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise," I smile while sitting up in bed and taking the steaming cup of hot cocoa from my twin's hands.

"You should know by drinking that hot chocolate, that I grueled _minutes _over," I chuckle at Scott's words, "you'll be accepting my apology."

"Cheers," I smile before bringing the mug to my lips; making possibly the happiest grin I've ever seen on my brother take over his face. "I should probably apologize too," I say while setting the hot beverage down on my nightstand.

"Probably," Scott echoes jokingly.

I roll my eyes and push him off of my bed so I can get to my feet and stretch. "Alright, get out of here; I've got to get ready for school."

"Love you too, sis," Scott responds sarcastically while exiting my bedroom; leaving me wondering when the hell he found out how to _use_ sarcasm, let alone use it well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What do you mean 'Jackson knows'?" I hiss while looking across the lunch table wide-eyed to my brother.

"And how do you know he knows?" Stiles questions urgently.

"Yeah," I agree. "Did he say it?"

"Say what?" Scott asks.

I glance around the cafeteria before leaning in and whispering, "Werewolf."

"Oh," Scott nods. "Well, no; but he implied it pretty freakin' clearly!"

"Maybe this isn't as bad as we think it is," Stiles begins. "I mean, what proof does he have? No one would believe him, anyway."

"Oh no," I begin sarcastically with a roll of my eyes. "It's not as if Beacon Hills is c_rawling _with hunters or anything!"

"Okay," Stiles says in a pitched tone, "maybe this _is _as bad as it seems."

"What do we do?" Scott panics.

"I don't know," I sigh while rubbing my right temple; trying to suppress the growing migraine there. "But don't worry; we'll figure it out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh my god," Stiles exclaims as he speed-walks towards me and my locker. "Oh my god," he repeats. "Oh my god!"

"What?" I laugh while looking up to him curiously. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Coach Finstock just told me I get to play in tonight's lacrosse game!" Stiles shouts in euphoria. "Oh my god, I'm _first line!_"

I drop the books in my hands to the floor and immediately jump up to wrap my arms around his neck in a congratulatory hug. "You're first line!" I echo happily. "Oh my god, Stiles, congratulations!"

"I take it you told her the good news," Scott smiles while joining me and Stiles as we separate.

"The great news!" I correct before reaching into my opened locker for my backpack.

"What are you doing?" Stiles questions in amusement as I rummage through the front slot of my bag.

"Looking for my phone," I answer; a proud smile still on my face.

"Why?" he asks in amusement.

I pull out my cellphone and begin dialing a familiar but rarely used number. "To call your dad."

"_Vanessa_," Stiles whines with flushing cheeks.

"Shh!" I hush while admiring his embarrassed expression. "Oh, hey Sheriff! No, no there's nothing wrong. Actually, I have some really good news!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Quit bouncing, Nessa," Sheriff Stilinski chuckles from his seat on my right. "You're shaking the whole bench!"

I look up to the middle aged man with wide, excited eyes and a smile. "Sorry," I apologize. "I'm just so excited! I mean; it's his first game!"

"I know," the sheriff smiles before leaning in a little and whispering, "I'm excited too."

I glance around the field and parking lot in search of Stiles Jeep before glancing down at my phone and frowning. I'd been texting him for hours but he hadn't responded once. Scott said he hadn't heard from him either and it's only a few minutes before the game's supposed to start. I was starting to worry.

Loud cheers interrupt my troubled thoughts, and I look up to watch the rival team strut onto the field with far too much arrogance. Moments later, Beacon Hills High's lacrosse (future) champions joined the rival on the turf; sending the Home bleachers into a clapping frenzy.

My eyes scan the player's jerseys, and my heart sinks when I don't spot Stiles' amongst the team. I then glance up to the sheriff, and I watch as his eyes happily search through the throng of players before he concludes, as I have, his son is not there.

"I don't see him," Sheriff Stilinski whispers as his smile slides off of his face.

"Neither do I," I respond quietly while clasping Stiles' dad's hand in my own and squeezing it comfortingly. "Neither do I."

**Author's note!**

**I got a little negative feedback on the last chapter, which I appreciate (as long as it's constructive), so I hope you guys enjoy this one much more.**

**Review Replies:**

**Guest- First of all I'd just like to thank you for taking the time to read and review my story; so thanks. Secondly, and I hope this doesn't come across rude, but did you intend to be snide in your comment or am I just reading it wrong? As far as my chapter length; my last few chapters have had at least 2,300 words without my author's note, and the author's notes are always under 500 words. I've said from the very beginning that I struggle with having lengthy chapters, but I make up for that by posting once or even more than once a day. If you have a problem with the story then you simply don't have to read it. I enjoy replying to my reviews because I want readers to feel listened to. You don't have to read them if you chose not to.**

**Cherry0327- I hope this chapter cleared up some of your concerns about Stiles' personality! Thank you for being honest and constructive, I appreciate it ****. Please feel free to call out any other things you're unsure about in the future!**

**Midnightquiver- Thank you for the compliment! As far as a Derek and Vanessa heart-to-heart, I'm unsure how to go about it. They'll interact more in season two but as of right now I'm just struggling to find ways for them to have the opportunity to meet and have a discussion. Please continue to review!**

**Poetgirl616- Thank you so much! I really appreciate your kind words. It made me really happy to see how you're noticing character development, and I hope you like this new chapter!**

**Thanks guys, DFTBA!**


	31. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

The home team's bleachers were in an absolute uproar. Players embraced and a chant of _"State! State! State!_" overtook the field. I was proud of my brother, proud of the whole team actually, for taking another step closer to the finals but my worry for Stiles overpowered my pride. The sheriff had left mid-match after we both realized Stiles wasn't showing, and the disappointment on his face was heartbreaking. Still, I knew his son wouldn't have missed his first and possibly only chance at playing in a match without a good reason. The problem was I was unaware of said reason.

I cut through the swarming crowd and head towards the corridor leading into the boy's locker room. I couldn't help but hope maybe Scott had gathered information about where Stiles was, because disappointingly I hadn't. No matter how many times I called or texted during the game Stiles hadn't answered once. I was growing more and more anxious as time went on.

"Oof," I grunt having walked directly into another person. "I'm so sorry- oh, Mr. Argent! Hey Allison." I give the girl a curious look, and I can't help but wonder why her father is physically pulling her out of the locker room's corridor.

"Hey," she greets with a sweet smile.

"Nice to see you, Vanessa," Mr. Argent says with forced politeness. "Sorry, but we've got to go."

"It's no problem," I respond while side stepping around the pair. "I've gonna go congratulate my brother, anyway."

I don't think Allison's father paid attention or even heard my excuse as to why I would be entering the locker room, but being as I was allowed to enter without question it didn't really matter.

My brow skyrockets when I see Jackson give Scott a condescending slap on the face, and although I storm towards the boys I don't reach them before Jackson's already walked away.

"What the hell was that about?" I ask concernedly.

My twin looks down to me and replies, "Jackson's trying to make a deal to get the bite."

"And what deal's that?" I question with an upwards quirk of my left brow.

"That if I help him get the bite I'll be able to go to Formal with Allison."

"You're kidding, right?" I question incredulously. "Christ, Jackson's even dumber than he looks."

"Listen, I've got to wash up so-"

"Wait, Scott!" I interrupt, but he's already disappeared into the locker room; the door swinging shut behind him.

Dammit.

"I guess I'll just wait here then!" I shout dejectedly while leaning against a far wall. Stupid Scott. Feeling useless I take my phone out of my jacket pocket and begin dialing Stiles' phone number once more.

_You've reached the voice mailbox of _"Stiles" _is not available. If you wish to leave a callback number, press pound. If you wish to leave a voice message, please speak after the tone._ _Beep!_

"Stiles it's me… again," I sigh. "Listen, I'm really starting to worry and-"

My words were interrupted by the sudden scream of my twin, and I gasped at the sound before running into the locker room, and shout of, "Scott!" falling from my lips. I let my phone drop to the linoleum floor without care as my eyes widened with horror at the sight of my brother twitching on the shower floor. "Oh my god, Scott!" I exclaimed while dropping to my knees beside him. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"It's Peter," Scott gasps as I help him to his feet. "He's the alpha."

"What?" I question as he lowers himself onto a bench and hunches forwards. "Scott, what are you talking about?"

"Oh my god!" a familiar shout suddenly sounds off as footsteps echo against the locker room's walls. "Scott, we have a problem!"

I peer over my twin's shoulder to see Stiles, and red-hot anger boils in my blood. "Where the hell have _you_ been?" I question heatedly.

"Nevermind that!" Stiles dismisses with a flourished wave of his hands. "Peter Hale's the alpha!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Vanessa," Stiles whines, "_talk_ to me."

"I'm quite content ignoring you actually," I reply while turning to page 87 of The Fault In Our Stars. "I figure it's only fair you know how it feels."

"I get it, okay?" Stiles questions while pulling the book I was pretending to read from my hands. "I should have answered the phone. God, I had no idea you'd be so worried-"

"Of course I was worried!" I snap while leaning forwards and closer to Stiles. "How could you not think I would be worried? I was freaking out! Christ, Stiles! All I could think about was how that alpha could have hurt you or killed you or- fuck, I don't know! And I had to sit next to your dad and pretend like everything was perfectly fine! Like I didn't know you were in potential danger!" I cross my arms over my chest and flop back onto my bed in anger. "'No idea you'd be so worried' my _ass_," I huff while glaring up hatefully to my bedroom's ceiling. "Do you think this is funny?" I snap over the sound of Stiles' sudden laughter.

"No," the boy chuckles while moving from his seated position at the end of my bed to lay down beside me; draping his right arm around my middle as his left props his upper body up so he can look down to me. "I just think you're adorable when you grumble."

"Stiles," I begin in a warning tone while eyeing him wearily; unsure of where he's going with this sudden closeness. I was too mad at him to want him to kiss me, and too mad to know right now if he'd made his decision. Luckily though, Stiles did neither.

"I'm not leaving until you forgive me," he threatens with a playful smile.

"Forgive him!" I hear Scott shout from down the hall. "So I can get some sleep!"

Stiles and I angle our heads towards my closed bedroom door before looking back to each other and releasing loud laughs. My bed shook from our laughter and Stiles leant his forehead against my shoulder as he rocked with hysterics. Without really thinking about it I brought my left hand up to the nape of his neck and ran the pads of my fingers through the short, prickly hair there.

"Sorry Scott," I giggle while looking down to Stiles' bobbing head. After catching my breath I decide, with a roll of my eyes, to let my anger go. "Alright, you're forgiven. Now get out of here."

"Yes!" Stiles cries victoriously before sloppily kissing my cheek and getting to his feet. "See you tomorrow," he calls over his shoulder while exiting the house; his footsteps thundering loudly in the quiet of the night.

"Tomorrow," I whisper to myself with a giddy smile while climbing underneath my bedspread; already looking forward to seeing Stiles' smiling face in the morning.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What do you _mean_ there might be a cure?" I question while turning my head so I can look to my peddling brother from over my shoulder. The harsh wind and our propel forwards sends wisps of hair into my eyes and mouth; making me splutter unattractively while turning my head forwards once more. "And why am I just finding out about this _now_?"

"Well before we knew the alpha was Peter Derek told me that the only way to cure me was to kill the alpha myself, and that he'd help me," Scott explains while narrowly dodging a pothole. I clench tighter onto Scott's bike's handles in fear before calming once more.

"I doubt he's going to now, though," I sigh with a roll of my eyes. "Jesus, we can't catch a break, can we?"

"Vanessa," my twin begins in a surprisingly somber tone, "what if I don't get cured? What if I'm a werewolf forever?"

"Then you'll be a werewolf forever," I answer with a shrug of my shoulders. "I mean, this stuff'll get easier as time goes on, anyway."

"Yeah," Scott sighs in relief. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'm always right," I reply easily before smiling victoriously at the sound of my twin's laughter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This guy is such a tool," Stiles announces for the thousandth time, and I hum in agreement routinely.

We'd been tailing Jackson ever since school let out, and while it was nice just cruise around with my boys (whose relationship somehow had not changed since the night Scott attacked me) I was beginning to get bored. I mean, if I was interested in Fast And Furious wannabe's I'd just watch that show _Cops_ or whatever. Plus this was a total waste of gas.

"Oh look," I coo while pointing out into the empty parking lot Jackson had just driven into. "There's something happening with his car."

"Serves him right," Stiles snorts; causing me to roll my eyes but smile.

"Hey, isn't that Mr. Argent's car?" I question while leaning forward against my seatbelt to get a better look.

"Oh shit!" Scott exclaims as Mr. Argent pulls into the parking lot beside Jackson's immobile car.

"What?" I yelp in alarm while turning to my brother wide-eyed. "What is it?"

"The Argents think Jackson's me!" Scott informs us before leaning over me to whack Stiles in the leg. "Go! Go! Go!"

"I'm going!" Stiles yells while pressing down harder on the Jeep's pedal; barreling us towards the parking lot with palpitation-inducing speed.

"Eek!" I squealed while slamming hard into my brother's side at the too-fast turn Stiles took. "_Stiles_!"

"Sorry, Nessa."

The Jeep jerks to a stop, and while my seatbelt nearly strangles me Scott and Stiles give warm, if but a bit ghetto, greetings to Jackson and Mr. Argent.

"Yo," Scott waves.

"Wassup?" Stiles nods with a casual smile.

"Is everything okay?" my twin questions in concern.

"Hey Scott," Mr. Argent greets as I peer over my brother's shoulder to get a better look at the man. "Your friend here was just having car troubles; we're just taking a look."

_Bullshit_.

"There's a shop right down the street," I pipe up while shooting Mr. Argent a narrow-eyed look. Scott had told me all about his little run-in with the hunter at the Argent's house during our bike ride to school, and I felt validated for disliking him now; making it easier for me to show said dislike. "We could give you a lift, if you want?"

As much as I hate Jackson I didn't want him to get mixed up in all of this werewolf drama. He has no connection to the alpha nor Argents (sans Allison); making him innocent in all of this. If he was to get caught in the crossfire it would be our fault, and I'd be damned if I let that happen.

Scott opens the passenger's side door and I unbuckle my seatbelt so I can climb over to the back. When Jackson hesitates, however, I don't move.

"Hey, c'mon Jackson you're way to pretty to be out here all by yourself," Stiles condescends; making me smile to myself in amusement.

I watch as Jackson makes a hesitant and, quite frankly, scared nod before twisting my body so I can climb over. I can feel Stiles give a helping hand, or more accurately I can feel Stiles' hand_ on my ass_, and my face flames as I slap it away while propelling myself into the back seat. He lets out muted chuckles as I scowl at him; amused by my discomfort and embarrassment. Oh he is _so_ paying for that later.

"Hey Jackson," Mr. Argent calls; regaining my attention as he opens up the Porsche's driver side's door. He twists Jackson's car key and the sports car purrs to life. "Told you I know a few things about cars," Allison's father says with a cocky and creepy smile before reentering his vehicle and speeding away.

Either the Argents planted something in Jackson's engine or Chris missed out on his true calling; being a mechanic. As unrealistic as the latter seems, I couldn't help but be hopeful.

"What, are you following me now?" Jackson snaps with fury; causing Scott to slam the Jeep's passenger's door shut.

"Yes," my twin confesses heatedly, "you stupid fuckass!"

I snort loudly at my twin's insult before reclining and getting myself comfortable; eager to watch an argument between Scott and Jackson ensue.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How are you doing today, Vanessa?" Dr. Franks' monotonously drawled as I attempted to get comfortable in my seat planted adjacent to his.

"Good," I respond while looking around my therapist's office; inspecting the strange trinkets and succulents around the room. "Very good, actually," I amend while meeting Dr. Franks' bright eyes once more.

"Wonderful," the handsome doctor smiles while making a note on his legal pad. "Would you like to tell me why today was such a good day?"

"I don't know," I lie with a shrug.

"Yes you do," Franks prompts expectantly.

"I had a good night's rest last night," I say diplomatically.

"Ah yes," Dr. Franks nods while making another note. "You said you'd been having trouble sleeping."

"Nightmares," I correct softly while looking down to my fidgeting hands. "I've been having nightmares."

"Yes, I remember now." I roll my eyes at his run-around talking while silently cursing him in my mind. As if he'd forgotten. As if his detailed notes would _let_ him forget. "Would you like to tell me what your nightmares are about?"

"No," I answer automatically.

"Very well," Dr. Franks nods complacently. "Maybe next time." Doubtful. "What would you like to talk about today, Vanessa? Perhaps your father? Last week you told me about your… strained relationship."

"To have a 'strained relationship' you would have to have any sort of relationship at all," I snort. "My father and I don't talk. That's all there is to it."

"And how does that make you feel?"

I clench my teeth at the cliché line but decide to answer regardless. "Angry," I reply. "He makes me angry."

"It's good that you recognize that," Dr. Franks nods, "but it seems that a lot of things make you angry, Vanessa."

"It doesn't seem that way," I reply. "It _is_ that way."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know," I sigh while looking over his shoulder to a foreign looking vase. "But I'm working on it."

"That's good," Dr. Franks compliments. "It's good to work on things. But do you think you'll be able to work things out with your father?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly.

"Well are you willing to try?"

"I don't know," I repeat.

"How do you feel about your father, Vanessa?"

"I just told you," I huff while crossing my arms over my chest. "He makes me-"

"I didn't ask you how he _makes_ you feel, Vanessa," Dr. Franks interrupts. "I asked how you feel _about_ him."

"Well I love him," I begin, "obviously. I mean, he_ is_ my father."

"Okay," he notes, "but do you think that that's enough?"

"That what's enough?" I question with a confused quirk of my head.

"Love," Dr. Franks answers simply.

I laugh at his words. "Are you asking me if I think love conquers all?"

Dr. Franks looks up from his notepad and meets my eyes with a steady and calculating gaze. "Do you?"

"I'm not sure," I say while getting the feeling I'm not just talking about Dad anymore.

Well _shit_.

**Author's Note!**

**There was a pretty big revelation for Vanessa in this chapter brought on by Dr. Franks (faceclaim Stanely Tucci) about love which will only further complicate her feelings about Stiles and what she wants. Also we found out that Peter Hale is the alpha, Derek has joined his side, and the Argents think Jackson (aka Fuckass) is the new Beta. Next chapter will be a continuation of this episode (Season 1 Episode 10 Co-Captain) where Melissa goes on a date with Peter (or tries to) and the Sheriff confirms what Stiles has thought for a while; that the murders **_**are**_** all connected to the Hale fire.**

**I hope you guys liked this and chapter Thirty will be up soon.**

**Review Replies!**

**Guest- I began writing my reviews in an author's note because I'd been told that most people with accounts don't check their private messages. However to those who have PM'd me I reply to them that way. I thank you for apologizing and appreciate you giving me your opinion. I had asked you to clarify your tone because I wasn't sure how you meant it, but being as you had no intended malice my feelings remain intact. Thank you for enjoying this story and I hope you like this chapter!**

**Audrey- I felt like Vanessa needed to draw the line with Stiles. From the very beginning I'd established that their friendship had always been more than platonic, and although she was alright with that before with everything that's going on she just isn't anymore. Emotionally she can't handle mixed signals. Don't worry though, everything will be cleared up soon. What becomes of that, however, is unknown. As far as Scott and Vanessa, there will be more reconcealiation in the future to look forward to, so I hope you enjoy that as well! Thanks for reading!**

**Xoxo DFTBA**


	32. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

"So how did your appointment with Dr. Franks go?" Mom asks as she passes me the wet dish she'd just washed.

I take it from her and begin to wipe it off with the drying rag in hand. "It was…" I struggle to find an appropriate word, "illuminating."

"Oh?" she prompts with poorly concealed curiosity.

"Yeah," I nod while setting the dried plate down on the counter before me.

"Anything you want to share?" she questions while handing me a dripping cup.

"Doctor patient confidentiality," I retort with a teasing smile, "sorry."

"Alright, alright," Mom concedes. "I won't pry. I'm just glad you're doing alright."

"Don't get all sentimental on me, now," I joke before the sound of someone knocking on our front door interrupts our conversation. "I'll get it," I volunteer while wiping my hands on my jeans.

I enter the foyer and open the front door just as the visitor begins knocking again. "Allison!" I exclaim in surprise with a smile. "Hey, what's up?"

"Is Scott home?" she questions while peering over my shoulder.

"Yeah," I nod while stepping aside to let her in. "His room's right upstairs; second door on the left."

"Thanks, Nessa," Allison smiles before ascending the staircase; a determined and pretty expression on her face.

"Who was that?" Mom questions as I rejoin her by the sink.

"Allison," I singsong. "I sent her up to Scott's room."

"Oh great," Mom begins in a sarcastic tone, "now I'm gonna end up on some MTV show about teen pregnancy."

"Oh relax," I soothe with a roll of my eyes. "You could always just ask to be blurred out, anyway."

"You're horrible and I hate you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So tell me about this guy," I suggest while patting charcoal eye shadow on the outer corners of my mother's eyes.

After finishing the dishes she told me she had a date tonight, and I eagerly jumped at the opportunity to play dress up. Mom had gone on her fair share of dates since the divorce, she's a stone cold fox after all (I mean, she did produce _me_), and every time I would help her get ready. Between her busy work schedule and everything that's been going on I appreciated the opportunity to spend some quality time with her even more.

"Well he's really cute," Mom gossips as I brush some coral blush under her cheekbones for a little contouring. "Tall, dark hair, blue eyes."

"Sounds dreamy," I laugh. "Look up." She obeys my request and I swipe some of my favorite volumizing mascara on her top lashes before doing the same to her bottom. "How'd you meet him?"

"He's some medical rep. who came into the hospital today," Mom informs me as I take a step back to admire my work. "We just got to talking and the next thing I know I'm saying yes to dinner and _really _hating myself for skipping the gym last week."

I throw my head back with laughter at her words before taking Mom by the hand and pulling her to her feet. "C'mon, let's go get a man's opinion," I giggle while leading her down the hall towards Scott's bedroom. "Scotty you're needed!" I exclaim before barging into my twin's bedroom; making Allison and Scott jump to their feet in surprise.

"Whoa," Scott says as his brow skyrockets in surprise. "Mom you look…"

"What, what is it?" Mom questions nervously while reaching up to fiddle with her curled hair. "Is it too much? Vanessa I _told_ you not to over-do the eyeliner-"

"No, no that's not it," Scott interrupts. "Mom you look amazing."

"You look really beautiful Ms. McCall," Allison compliments with a smile.

"Why do you look amazing?" Scott then questions while narrowing his eyes on our mother.

"Mom's got a hot date tonight," I inform him with a wink just before the sound of our doorbell rings. "Ooh, that must be him!" I squeal in excitement.

"Oh my god, I-I'm not done, I'm not ready- I- uh-"

I interrupt my mom's nervous ramblings with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry; I'll entertain while you finish up. Make sure you wear the black pumps and _not_ the peep-toes!"

"You're the best," Mom sighs before scurrying back to her bedroom.

"You bet I am," I smirk while turning to eye my brother and Allison calculatingly. "Wanna go intimidate Mom's date?"

"Just one minute, okay?" Scott asks while turning to face Allison.

"Have fun," his ex laughs with a nod of acceptance.

We barrel down the stairs before elbowing each other out of the way on our journey to the door. We usually fought over who got to open the door first, and before Scott's transformation I usually won. Unfortunately things have changed.

"No fair," I huff while folding my arms dejectedly.

"Shut up," Scott teases with a roll of his eyes before placing his hand on our front door's handle. I watch in confusion as he tenses and lowers his hand once more.

"What?" I question. "What is it?" When he doesn't answer or move I just roll my eyes and go to open the door myself; with a brilliant smile on my face. "Hi I'm V- oh my god!" I yelp while jumping backwards and knocking into Scott.

"Hello there," Peter Hale smiles sadistically while narrowing his eyes in satisfaction on myself and my brother.

"If you hurt her, or touch her, or-"

Scott's ramblings are cut off by Peter's snide remark. "Scott if I may interrupt your listing of the top five most impotent sounding threats for a moment; try and remember that I've been in a coma for the last _six years. _Don't you think I'd like to have dinner with a beautiful woman?"

"I'll tell her," I threaten while taking a half-step closer to the psychotic werewolf. "I'll tell her everything."

"This is your fault, you know," Peter smirks while locking his gaze on mine. "That night at the school when you mentioned your mother, I couldn't help but wonder what an amazing woman she must be to have raised a daughter who was so unafraid to die."

"How dare you," Scott growls while pushing me behind him in a protective stance as my eyes grow wide and teary.

"That kind of character would make a good addition to the pack," Peter states calmly. "I can't help but wonder if this little date tonight will motivate you to join, Vanessa. It would be easier if your mother did too."

"Don't you _dare,_" I snarl while attempting to push past my brother.

"Such anger," Peter smiles. "That's good. It'll help the transition."

"I'd rather die," I spit, "than join you."

"Be careful what you wish for, little girl," Peter threatens ominously.

"I'm so sorry to make you late!" Mom suddenly chirps as she approaches our trio. "I hope my kids didn't scare you off."

"Not at all," Peter smiles charmingly.

"Mom!" I call out in a strangled voice as the alpha leads her out of our front door.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she coos sweetly while shooting me a contradictory glare.

"H-have a good time," I stutter as my hands begin to shake.

"We will," Peter interrupts while shooting a pointed look Scott's way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nessa will keep you company," Scott informs Allison while searching his room for his set of car keys.

"It's fine Scott I can just go home and-"

"No," my twin interrupts. "Allison I want to talk to you, there's nothing else I'd rather do more actually but this is really, _really_ important." I watch from my spot in the doorway as Scott takes a seat beside Allison, squeezes her hands, and gives her a nauseatingly sweet look. "Just wait for me," he begs. "I'll be back in an hour."

"Yeah," I pipe up while skipping into the room. "It'll be fun; it's been a while since I had a girl's night anyway."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Girl's Night with Lydia VS. Girl's Night with Allison was very… different. For one there was no online shopping, or make-overs, or chick-flicks. Allison was kind of depressing, actually, because all she'd done since Scott left was mope around and question me relentlessly about where he'd gone and when he'd be back and is this about what I told her she couldn't know?

It's safe to say I was starting to really, really miss my strawberry blonde best friend.

"Listen," Allison begins while getting to her feet after looking down to an alert on her phone, "it's getting late and I really need to head home."

"But Scott-"

"Is obviously not here," the pale girl interrupts. "I'm sorry," she apologizes with a shake of her head while speed walking out of my bedroom.

"Allison!" I call after the girl while following after her. My response is the sound of our front door slamming. "Dammit," I groan. Scott's going to be _crushed_.

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

I hurry down the staircase and into the kitchen to pick up my ringing cellphone. I look down and decipher the contact _Scott_ through the spider-web cracks on my screen before picking it up and pressing the Apple product to my ear. "Scott I'm so sorry Allison just left and I tried to make her stay but-"

"This isn't Scott," a rich voice that I recognize immediately interrupts.

"Dr. Deaton?" I question in alarm. "What are you doing with Scott's phone?"

"You need to get down to the clinic," the veterinarian orders. "You're brother's been shot."

"_What_?" I yelp in surprise. "What do you mean shot? What happened?"

"I'll see you soon," Deaton replies before a dial tone takes over.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Vanessa?"

"Oh my god, Stiles!" I sob while pacing around my kitchen for the umpteenth time.

"What's wrong?" Stiles' static filled voice questions. "Vanessa what's the matter?"

"It's Scott," I hiccup. "Deaton called and told me he's been shot and to come down to the clinic but I can't drive and Peter's out there and-"

"Calm down," Stiles soothes. "Nessa calm down. I'll be right over, okay? Just stay calm."

"He's been _shot_," I wail inconsolably. "My baby brother's been _shot_!"

"Just-just stay on the phone with me until I get there," Stiles orders. "I'm on my way right now; I'm almost there."

"Oh my god," I moan while collapsing into a chair at my kitchen table. "What if Deaton can't heal him? What if it's a special bullet like Derek had and he dies?" I break off into a fit of sobs before questioning, "Stiles what am I gonna _do_?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The whole ride to the vet's I was a blubbering mess. There were tears and snot and hiccups and just _not fun_, and from what I could tell it really freaked Stiles out. Not in a "ew gross quit slobbering all over my car" kind of way but in a "holy shit I've never seen you cry like this" kind of way, and to be honest I don't think I ever _have_ cried as hysterically as I did that car ride.

I never did stop crying, though. Not when Deaton let Stiles and I see my brother, who looked fine if not a little pale, not when Stiles and I had to go home because Deaton urged us to get some rest, not during the car ride back to my house, and not even now; while the Jeep sits idly in my driveway and Stiles looks to me in concern.

"Nessa," he prompts quietly while reaching out to lay a comforting hand of my left shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I apologize in an oddly pitched voice. "I'm sorry," I repeat while dusting the falling tears off of my face. "I-I just can't help it."

"Hey," Stiles begins while tugging my arm towards his body, "c'mere." I unbuckle my seat belt and launch myself into his awaiting arms desperately; eager to be comforted by him. "Shh," he soothes while running a hand up and down my spine as his other cradles the back of my head. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm right here."

"I'm so scared," I confess through my erratic breathing. "I just want everyone to be safe! I don't want you or Scott or Mom-" I break off into a sob before I'm able to continue, "getting hurt. I love you guys so much and I'm _so scared_."

"It's okay to be afraid," Stiles assures me while hugging me tighter to his body.

"No it isn't," I deny while burying the right side of my face into his chest.

"Yes it is," he replies while stroking my hair gently. "You don't have to be strong all of the time, Nessa. It's _okay_."

"Promise me you'll never leave," I sob. "Please, _please_ don't leave me, Stiles."

"Never," he promises. "I'll stay with you as long as you want me to."

As I drifted asleep, suddenly exhausted from my emotional breakdown, I couldn't help but wonder if he realized he'd just promised to spend forever by my side.

**Author's Note!**

**This chapter is shorter than the others have been lately, but it only made sense to leave off where I did. Chapter 31 will be up either later tonight or tomorrow. **

**How do you guys like the new banner for this story? I found the pic on Sarah Hyland's tumblr tag. I'm still debating whether or not to keep it or change it to JUST Vanessa's faceclaim. Let me know your opinions?**

**Thanks, DFTBA!**


	33. Chapter 31

**Oh my Gawwwddddddddddd Winter Formal is finally here! I hope I don't disappoint, and make sure you listen to Distance by Christina Perri when the part (you'll know when) starts!**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

"No, no!" Lydia shouts while slapping my hands down. "Put your hair _up_," she instructs. "Here, why don't I just do it?"

"You know," I begin with a smile, "as far as apologies go, helping me get ready for Formal is more than I expected from you."

"Not to mention buying your shoes and clutch," Lydia boasts while smirking at my reflection; making me laugh and shake my head in exasperation.

It was Friday, finally the day of the dance, and I couldn't have been more excited. Lydia had cornered me before first period demanding I forgive her and allow her to take me shopping after school. After my rough night yesterday it was exactly what I needed. To say I missed the overbearing gossip was a massive understatement. We gabbed about Stacy Jennings' recent breakup with Toby Harrison who, according to rumor, had been cheating on the mean girl with Nina Fallon; a freshmen, amongst other things. Shopping with Lydia had been the most fun I'd had in a while, and I was extremely grateful for both her friendship and the break from werewolf-dom hanging out with her gave me.

"I still can't believe you're going with my brother," I announce after a moment with a disgusted scrunch of my nose.

"Only because Allison asked me to," the done-up blonde shrugs.

"I still don't get why she did that," I reply while wincing at her sharp tugs on my curled hair. "I mean, you _did_ kiss him after all."

"It was a one-time thing," Lydia shrugs. "I mean, it's not as if I actually _like_ Scott."

"Hey," I snap; insulted, "what's that supposed to mean? My brother's very likeable."

"Your brother is also very Allison's," Lydia says with a roll of her eyes. "I only kissed him to get back at her. There," she steps back to admire her work, "all done."

As Lydia turned to the smaller mirror on my desk to touch up her lip gloss, I couldn't help but admire not only my hair but the way I looked as a whole.

Ten websites and two shopping malls had resulted in the strapless, above-the-knee, pristine white cocktail dress I wore. It fit like a glove and gave me the illusion of cleavage which, sadly, I don't possess on my own. I'd done my face makeup simple; no harsh contours nor a bold lip, but the smoke eye I'd expertly painted was as much of a statement as I wanted to make. The undertone of navy on my lids tied the electric blue pumps and clutch to the rest of the outfit; balancing everything out perfectly. Although I was showing more skin than I ever had before, sans bathing suits, I felt confidant; pretty, and, as bad as it sounds, I couldn't wait to add insult to injury when Stacy Jennings saw me looking, I'm sure, a hundred times better than she does even _with_ the healing scars on my thigh.

"Vanessa!" I hear Mom call from the bottom of our steps. "Stiles is here!"

I inhale sharply at the news and turn my heel to face Lydia wide-eyed. "Oh my god," I hiss while spastically reaching out to slap her arm. "What do I do?"

"Make him fall in love with you, of course," Lydia answers with a smile and roll of her eyes.

"_Lydia_!" I whine while stomping my right foot childishly.

"Is everything alright up there?" Mom's concerned tone shouts over Lydia's amused giggles.

"Fine," I answer before adding, "I'll be down in a minute!"

"Okay, first; stop freaking out," Lydia instructs. "We don't need you spazzing out and tripping over your heels or something."

"Okay," I nod. "Got it; no spazzing. What else?"

"Just…" she struggles to find words, "be yourself. You and Stiles are made for each other."

"Do you really think so?" I question meekly while looking down to my fiddling hands.

"Yes," Lydia assures me confidently before squaring her shoulders and strutting out of my bedroom. "Now c'mon; it's time to make our grand entrance."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I tried to keep my focus on my wobbling feet as I descended the staircase but at the sound of a sharp intake of breath my eyes snapped upwards and directly into Stiles'; making my heart flutter and face warm. I clutched onto the railing to make up for my lack of concentration as I took the last three steps because I was suddenly unable to tear my eyes from my date's.

"Vanessa," Stiles breathes, "you look…"

I smile so widely at his speechlessness that my cheeks begin to hurt. "Use your words," I prompt teasingly with a wink.

My joking causes Stiles to roll his eyes, but the smile on his face tells me I hadn't truly annoyed him. "Why did I ask you to be my date, again?" he questions rhetorically with a mock glare.

"Beats the hell out of me," I laugh with an uncommitted shrug of my shoulders.

"You look beautiful," Stiles informs me softly as his eyes sweep my body.

"Thanks," I blush. "You too." Realizing my words I slap my forehead with a groan. "I mean: you look very handsome Stiles," I amend with an embarrassed laugh.

And handsome he did. His suit was a size too big (it appeared the only man who knew his actual suit size was Ryan Gosling), a cuff link was missing, and his tie was poorly done, but all of the imperfections were just so utterly _Stiles_ that they couldn't really be seen as imperfections at all.

"Here," Stiles says while thrusting a clear box out towards me. "I-uh, it's one of those flower things."

I gasp and look down to the flower with wide eyes. It's a ghastly pink and doesn't match my outfit whatsoever, but I fall in love with it immediately. "You got me a corsage?" I question breathlessly while taking the box from his hands. I look up to Stiles with a jaw-dropped smile, while getting the feeling there wouldn't be a time tonight when I _didn't_ wear a happy expression on my fact.

"Yeah," he blushes.

"It's perfect," I say while looking back down to the flower.

"Why didn't you get_ me_ a corsage?" I hear Lydia snap at my brother from off to my right.

"Uh," Scott begins snidely, "because I don't actually want to go with you?"

"Scott McCall!" Mom snaps; making me look to the trio with laughter.

"Yeah well you're not my first choice either, buddy," Lydia scowls before huffing and folding her arms across her chest.

"Help me with this?" I ask Stiles while taking the ugly flower out of its box. He sticks me a few times while sliding it onto my wrist, but once it's secure and clashing horribly with my skin tone I look back up to him with a too-big grin. "Thanks."

"Just let me get a few pictures," Mom begins while pulling a disposable camera to her eye, "and then you guys can get going."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stiles, Lydia, Scott and I arrived at the school fifteen minutes ago and while me and my date promptly parked ourselves at a far off table, Scott and Lydia went off to go stalk their exes. The gym looked amazing; there were banners and streamers and twinkling lights, the whole nine yards really, and everyone was having fun. Well, maybe not Scott and Lydia, but everyone else. And despite the fact Stiles hadn't asked me to dance, which was disappointing, I still couldn't stop smiling. Though, that was mostly due to the corny jokes Stiles was attempting to make me laugh with.

"Okay," he begins eagerly while playing with my hand, "what's red and smells like blue paint?"

"I don't know Stiles," I respond with a roll of my eyes. "What?"

He lets out a giggle before answering, "Red paint!"

I groan at his cheesy joke and shake my head in mock disappointment. "You're _so_ not funny," I insult with a teasing grin

"Fine," Stiles huffs snootily while sticking his nose high into the air. "Since I'm _obviously_ not entertaining you," I watch with a furrowed brow as he gets to his feet, "then how about we dance?"

"I don't know," I begin reluctantly while looking out to the sea of couples. No matter how much I wanted to join them, I didn't want Stiles to feel pressured.

"C'mon Vanessa," Stiles prompts while tugging on my hand expectantly. "Please dance with me?"

How could I say 'no' to that? Well, I couldn't really.

"Okay," I smile while allowing him to pull me to my feet.

Stiles leads us into the throng of dancing couples just as a slow song begins to play. My face warms at the feel of Stiles' right arm wrapping around my waist, and I uncertainly place my right hand on his shoulder as his left hand clasps my own. It's not the cliché hugging-type of position everyone else is in, and for that I'm grateful. I wouldn't feel comfortable propping my arms on Stiles' shoulders due to my irrational fear of my dress slipping and flashing my nonexistent boobs to the world.

"I love this song," I gasp having recognized the tune while looking up to Stiles iced-coffee orbs. It isn't until Christina Perri's rasping vocals sound out, however, do I realize _why_ I love this song.

Its eerily relatable lyrics.

"_The sun is filling up the room, and I can hear you dreaming. Do you feel the way I do… right now?"_

Stiles begins to lead us in a simple, mostly swaying dance, and I lean my head forwards to rest it beside my hand on his left shoulder. I do it half for the fact I've been dying to get closer to him and the other half because I can't really look him in the eyes with this song playing.

"_I wish we would just give up; cause the best part is falling- call it anything but love. And I will make sure to keep my distance; say 'I love you' when you're not listening. How long can we keep this up, up, up?"_

"Nice song," Stiles comments.

"Yeah," I whisper back while letting my eyelids flutter closed; focusing on the sway of our movements and words spewing from the surprisingly high-quality speakers.

"_And please don't stand so close to me. I'm having trouble breathing. I'm afraid of what you'll see… right now. I give you everything I am; all my broken heart beats until I know you understand."_

Of course the crappy DJ had to pick **this** song right now. Sometimes I, melodramatically, think the universe really is out to get me.

"_And I will make sure to keep my distance; say 'I love you' when you're not listening. How long can we keep this up, up, up?"_

"Some interesting lyrics," Stiles observes in a forced conversational tone.

"Yep."

"_And I keep waiting for you to take me! You keep waiting-"_

Oh dear god, no.

"_To say what we have."_

I could literally _feel_ Stiles' shoulders tense at Christina's words.

"_So I'll make sure to keep my distance; say "I love you" when you're not listening."_

"Vanessa?" Stiles questions in an unsure tone that catches my attention.

"Yeah?" I ask while pulling my head from his shoulder so I can look him in the eyes with a furrowed brow.

"_How long can we keep this up, up, up? Make sure to keep my distance!"_

The emotions I find in Stiles' light orbs makes my breath catch and eyes widen.

"_Say "I love you" when you're not listening!"_

"I'm sure," he says suddenly as our dancing comes to a halt.

I go to question him, ask what he's talking about, but before I'm able to speak his lips are on mine; effectively rendering my speechless.

"_How long 'til we call this love, love, love?"_

My body reacts on its own. My eyes flutter closed and I feel possessed as my hands somehow wind themselves around his neck, but I know the angling of my neck and pursing of my lips is all my own doing.

Kissing Stiles is… euphoric. It's wonderful. His lips are softer than I'd ever imagined; they feel full against my own and each move they make, makes my knees grow a little weaker. A couple stumbles into my back; unintentionally deepening my and Stiles' chick-flick worthy kiss, and I can feel Stiles smile into my lips before pulling away.

…I reluctantly do as well.

"Stiles?" I breathe while looking up to him with wide eyes; not even bothering to untangle myself from him.

"I'm sure," he repeats with a still-growing grin.

"You're sure?" I question with an incredulous laugh.

"Yeah," Stiles nods. "I'm sure."

A smile so large I'm surprised it even fits takes over the lower half of my face, and with pure happiness I take hold of Stiles' collar and tug his upper body down to my own so our lips can meet once more.

Our second kiss was short lived, however, because Lydia roughly ripped me away from Stiles in a panic.

"Vanessa!" she shouted. "You have to help me find Jackson!"

I look down to the shorter girl with a furrowed brow. "What?" I ask. "Lydia, wh-"

"I can't find him anywhere!" she interrupts shrilly; catching the attention of surrounding students.

"Okay," I soothe while placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just calm down. We'll find him."

"Really?" Lydia breathes in relief before looking back and forth between me and Stiles. "I'm so sorry to interrupt I just-"

"It's fine," I assure her with a smile before turning to meet Stiles' eyes. "We'll talk later?" I ask with a pointed look.

"Yeah," he smiles before ducking down to kiss my cheek sweetly. "Later."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Lydia and I entered the school parking lot I was hit with an overwhelming sense of fear. My muscles tensed only partially due to the brisk air, and I reached out to clasp Lydia's hand in my own for a sense of comfort.

"Lydia," I begin as my eyes scan the forest in front of us in paranoia, "maybe Jackson's inside somewhere? Like in the bathroom?"

"I already checked the bathrooms," my blonde friend replies. "He _has_ to be out here!"

"Okay," I breathe shakily. "Okay, let's go look for him."

We wander around the parking lot for a while calling out Jackson's name before Lydia decides we should check out the lacrosse field. She says he likes to drink under the bleachers during school dances and that if he isn't there we'll go back inside and take a look around.

I agree despite every fiber of my being screaming at me to do otherwise.

"Jackson!" Lydia and I chorus while huddling closer together for warmth.

"Jackson are you out here?" I shout while scanning the fast field for any sign of the missing boy.

I gasp when the stadium lights suddenly turn on. One by one they begin to illuminate the field; surrounding me and Lydia with blinding brightness. When a dark figure begins to approach us I push my clueless friend behind me in a protective stance.

"Lydia," I breathe, "run."

"Jackson?" she questions while peering over my shoulder.

"Lydia go get Stiles!" I shout as the man comes closer.

I know who it is without seeing is face… because who else would it be?

"Ah Vanessa," Peter coos. "Once again so eager to face me alone."

"Lydia _go!_" I roar while shoving the strawberry blonde towards the school.

"_Vanessa!_" I hear Stiles scream as Lydia, propelled by my harsh shove, falls to the ground.

"Either take the bite or die, Vanessa," Peter smirks while walking closer.

"Die," I chose before closing my eyes and bracing myself for unbearable pain.

"_**Vanessa no!**_"


	34. Chapter 31 Part 2

**Chapter Thirty-One Part Two**

A white-hot pain explodes in my lower abdomen as the sound of my dress tearing and Lydia's terrified shriek fills the air. I hit the ground with a strangled cough and look blearily up to Stiles, who collapses beside me.

"Don't kill her," he begs. "Please."

I don't hear Peter's response; just white noise and the echo of Lydia's scream.

"W-what?" Stiles stutters. As my eyelids flutter closed it's hard to concentrate on his words. My brain is hazy and even breathing feels like too hard of a task to keep up. Instead I just focus on his voice; the richness of his tone, the tenor of his vocal chords. They're soothing and just as comforting as they always were. Like a lullaby. "How would I know that? _Why_ would I know that?"

I ignore the feel of Peter's claws brushing against my face to the best of my ability. "Stiles," I croak; only having enough energy to say his name.

"Oh god, Vanessa," he weeps.

"Tell me or I rip her apart," the alpha growls while puncturing the side of my face with a talon.

"What's going on?" I hear Lydia sob. "Why are you doing this?"

"Please don't kill her," Stiles pleas. "I don't know, okay? I-I swear I have no idea!"

"_Tell me!_" Peter roars while taking hold of my neck.

"Okay, okay, okay; look!"

A warm tear drop splashes against my forehead, and it takes me a moment to realize it isn't a really a raindrop at all; but instead a tear.

I try to speak once more, but what little strength I have suddenly leaves me. No matter how hard I try to tell Stiles not to cry and that it's okay and I love you please don't be sad… I can't. Instead the efforts I put in simply drain my body even more; making my bones feel heavy and brain throb with each beat of my heart.

The last thing I hear before a white noise takes over is Stiles' shaking voice say, "I think he knew." It wasn't a profession of love but, the way I figure it, hearing the boy I love's voice at all before I die was more than most ever get.

And I was thankful. Thankful to have ever heard Stiles' voice at all…

XXXXXXXX First Day of School: Grade 1: Lunch Time XXXXXXXX

"Hey," a twitchy boy with funny nostrils greeted while hesitantly approaching me and my brother. "Can I sit with you guys?"

I turn to look at Scott with wide eyes and raised eyebrows; surprised that someone wants to sit with us. Everyone thinks me and Scott are weird because we have the same birthday. A butt-face named Stacy told us to go to the circus 'cause that's where the freaks are! And then Mrs. Berk put _me_ in the time-out chair for pulling on the butt-face's pigtails! This school is run by _crazy_ people!

"Sure!" Scott smiles. "I'm Scott McCall and this is my sister Vee-Vee!"

"I'm Stiles," the funny-nosed boy grins while sitting down across from us.

"That's a cool name!" I exclaim before excitedly biting my monkey animal cracker's head off.

XXXXXXXXX December 28th, 2008 XXXXXXXX

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

"McCall residence, how can I-?"

"Vanessa," a sob interrupts my rehearsed greeting. "Are your parents around?"

"Sheriff?" I question in confusion. "Sheriff, why are you crying?"

"What's wrong?" my twin asks nosily from over my shoulder.

"Shh!" I hush while sending him a mean glare.

"There was an accident," Stiles' dad hiccups statically over the phone. "Stiles and Lia got really hurt, honey."

"What?" I say as tears well up in my eyes. "Are they okay?"

"Lia's dead," Sheriff Stilinski wails.

"What about Stiles?" I cry while swatting Scott's hands away.

"The doctors don't know yet, Vee-Vee… I think you should come down to the hospital."

XXXXXXXX March 26th, 2010 XXXXXXX

"Dad!" I singsong while closing the front door behind me. "Cheer let out early so Mr. Martin- oh my god!" I shout while looking to my father and a doe-eyed woman sitting on the couch in shock as they separate from their heated kiss. "Who the fuck is _she?_"

XXXXXXXXX July 4th, 2010 : Beacon Lake XXXXXXXX

"Get in the water, Nessa!" Stiles hollers while floating easily on his back.

"I don't swim good!" I shout back while raising my hand to my forehead like a visor so I can get a clearer view of my best friend.

"I won't let you drown!"

I'm pretty sure it was Stiles' words that made my face red, and not the Californian heat... not that I'd ever admit that, of course.

Still… he sure looks cute in his swimming trunks.

XXXXXXXXXX September 19th, 2012 XXXXXXX

"My dad got a call from the station," Stiles says with a manic smile, "some hikers found a body in the woods."

"A dead body?" Scott inquires with alarm.

"No, a body of water. Yes a dead body, you dumbass!" Stiles exclaims; making me laugh despite myself. "Anyway, the whole county is out there looking for it."

"But you just said hikers found the body. Can't they just tell your dad where it is?" I ask with a furrowed brow.

Stiles bounces excitedly on his feet while sticking his hands deep into his jeans' pockets. "That's the best part; they only found half!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So let's see it!" Stiles exclaims while looking to my brother eagerly.

I glance between them in confusion. "See what?"

Stiles' bright eyes meet mine as a giddy smile stretches out his lips. "Scott was bit by an animal last night!"

My face immediately snaps towards my twin's. "What?" I squawk while reaching out and grabbing Scott's right shoulder with my free hand. "Are you alright? You carried me home after being bitten by- wait, was it that wolf that howled?"

"Yeah," Scott nods while lifting his shirt to show Stiles and myself the damage. I gasp at the

sight of the sizeable and bloodstained gauze taped to his side.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ness!" Stiles calls sharply and suddenly; making me jump with fright.

The next thing I know I'm being lifted by my waist and wondering when I suddenly became a ragdoll. My cheeks burn and knees weaken when I realize my back is pressed flushed against Stiles' front and in a less-than-innocent way if I'm being completely honest, but my raging hormones are shoved to the backburner when I spot a tall, dark, handsome, and creepy guy glaring at us.

"What are you doing here, huh? This is privet property," the stranger growls as his scowl deepens.

XXXXXXXXX November 11th, 2012 XXXXXXXX

"I can't believe you stayed late just to drive me home," I blurt while eyeing Stiles curiously.

"Why not?" he questions in an insulted tone as we climb into the Jeep.

"It's just-" I slam the door beside me shut; "you're so nice to me."

"I'm always nice to you," Stiles responds earnestly.

"I know. That's probably why everyone thinks we're dating."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mom?" I question unsurely.

She sighs and reaches out to stroke my cheek gently. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

"Dr. Hemple just said-"

"I'm not talking about your ankle," Mom interrupts with a shake of her head. "You've been getting hurt a lot lately, and I'm worried that either you're getting clumsier with age or-"

"I just have a lot on my mind," I interrupt; not wanting to find out what was tacked on to that 'or'. "It distracts me from… walking."

"Is this about your father?" she questions with a furrowed brow.

I pull away from her touch immediately. "Why would this be about Dad?"

"It's just… with Irene pregnant-"

"What?" I croak in surprise.

Mom reels back and gives me a wide-eyed look. "You didn't know?"

XXXXXX November 12th, 2012 XXXXXXX

"What's the point?" I ask as an overwhelming wave of hurt and teenage angst washes over me. "Everyone leaves, Scott. Nobody stays. Not with me, anyway."

"You don't believe that," Scott denies. When I don't answer his face falls. "Is that why you don't want to tell Stiles how you feel? Do you really think we'll all just leave you?"

I swallow the lump in my throat and shake myself out of his significantly looser grasp. "I don't know what to think," I whisper while looking away from my twin's heartbroken gaze.

"I'm not Dad, Vanessa," Scott says. "Neither is Stiles. We care about you."

"Well so did Dad, Scott!" I shout angrily while meeting his disappointed eyes. "Feelings change. Dad has this new family and this new life so much better than ours and-" I cut myself off with a shake of my head; knowing this rant is what Scott wants. He wants me to open up. "Let's not do this now, okay? There are more important things right now."

I turn away and grab a pair of sneakers from the brook cupboard beneath the stairs. Scott simply watches me as I pull them and socks on, but when I go to exit the house he calls something that makes me pause.

"What excuse are you gonna use when there are no more important things?"

XXXXXX November 13th, 2012 XXXXXXX

"Go get ready; I'm gonna see if I can find your dad." I don't really think about what I'm doing until I'm already doing it. I place a kiss on Stiles' cheek (which is warm and smooth and dotted with a lone beauty mark and not far off from his freakin' lips) before pulling away with a heated face. "Uh- g-good luck," I stutter before scurrying off towards the field without looking back.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Would you like to tell me why I was just cornered by Derek Hale?" I question while sliding into the free spot beside him with my left brow raised.

Stiles turned to face me and mirrored my expression. "Would _you_ like to tell me why my dad thinks we're having sex?"

XXXXXXX November 14th, 20120 XXXXXX

"You should go with me," Stiles says while looking up to me out from under his eyelashes.

"What?" I question incomprehensibly with a furrowed brow.

"You should go with me to Winter Formal."

XXXXXXX November 20th, 2012 XXXXXXX

I feel Stiles' face nuzzle the left side of my own before his breath fans over my exposed shoulder. "I'm here," he whispers gently. "I'm right here."

"I was so scared," I repeat thickly.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Stiles promises. "Never again."

XXXXXX November 27th, 2012 XXXXX

"Dad!" Stiles exclaims. His voice sounds far away so I'm assuming he pulled the phone away from his ear. Okay, so (x+36)^2 as a trinomial is… I got nothing. "Vanessa made us soup!"

"Marry her!" I hear the sheriff shout back; which makes me snort in amusement and flush brightly.

"Planning on it!" Stiles responds before pulling his phone back up to his ear.

XXXXXXX December 3rd, 2012 XXXXXX

The locker room's door creaked slowly open and I clenched my eye lids fearfully as Stiles tensed and grasped my hands in his own.

Shit, should I tell him I love him before we die? Should I get one kiss in before we can kiss no more? Should I hug him; apologize for not being normal and being able to show my feelings in non-life or death situations? Should I-?

Oh my god, what? Did I just…

Holy hell, I'm in love with Stiles.

I am in love with Stiles, he doesn't know it, we are about to die, and I'm in love with Stiles.

Fuck.

XXXXX December 10th, 2012 XXXX

"Dammit, Vanessa," Stiles snaps in frustration while meeting my eyes, "would you just let me take care of you?"

XXXXX December 11th, 2012 XXXXX

"Stiles before you say anything I need you to figure out how you feel. You almost kissed me, okay? _You_ did that. And then you snapped at me. I get that you're scared but that isn't an excuse. I can't handle that. There's so much going on right now; so many things that are unsure and scary and new that I can't afford to lose you as my best friend." I blink away the tears collecting in my eyes and wipe away the few that spill over. This talk had come quicker than I expected. "I need you, Stiles," I confess in a choked voice, "but I don't need any more confusion."

"So what does that mean?" he asks quietly.

"It means," I begin in a shaking voice, "that if you ever try to kiss me again you better be sure it's what you want."

XXXX December 21st, 2012 XXXX

Kissing Stiles is… euphoric. It's wonderful. His lips are softer than I'd ever imagined; they feel full against my own and each move they make, makes my knees grow a little weaker. A couple stumbles into my back; unintentionally deepening my and Stiles' chick-flick worthy kiss, and I can feel Stiles smile into my lips before pulling away.

…I reluctantly do as well.

"Stiles?" I breathe while looking up to him with wide eyes; not even bothering to untangle myself from him.

"I'm sure," he repeats with a still-growing grin.

"You're sure?" I question with an incredulous laugh.

"Yeah," Stiles nods. "I'm sure."

XXXXXXXXX

"Either take the bite or die, Vanessa," Peter smirks while walking closer.

"Die," I chose before closing my eyes and bracing myself for unbearable pain.

"_**Vanessa no!**_"

**Author's Note!**

**Okay, so nothing happened in this chapter besides for a little backstory but I just felt like it needed to be done. Don't worry though, guys, just because Vanessa's taking a stroll down memory lane doesn't mean it's her life flashing before her eyes and that she's dead!**

**Kat- I completely understand! Thank you for reviewing at all, I really appreciate it. I'm glad you've liked what's happened and hope you continue to enjoy this story!**

**Audrey- I have all of the feels… ALL OF THEM. Lol. I'm glad you enjoyed the way I captured Stiles. I just figured who he is just isn't perfect, but that just makes Vanessa love him all of the more. Haha, the corsage was something I thought of as soon as I knew I was having Vanessa and Stiles go together. I feel like it's symbolic for the way Vanessa feels about Stiles; imperfect, quirky, but she still adores it. Thanks so much for reading!**

**Much more will happen next time, so I'll see you guys later today once the next chapter is done!**


	35. Chapter 32

**This chapter is in Third Person's P.O.V. and starts right after Vanessa loses consciousness. This and the next chapter probably the only times I will ever switch point of view, and I hope I don't butcher it too badly. I just didn't want to skip over everything that happened and I refuse to go off of the Teen Wolf plotline completely. Vanessa will not be turned nor will she become the kanima. Everything that happens with Jackson and Lydia will still happen. Hopefully everything that follows makes sense and you enjoy! Also, I'm so sorry for being a few hours late! Pretty, pretty please don't be mad?**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

"Knew what?" Peter Hale questions while narrowing his eyes on the young man whimpering over Vanessa's seemingly lifeless body.

"Derek- I think he knew he was gonna be caught," Stiles answers in a trembling voice.

Lydia Martin, beauty queen and Beacon Hills' resident mean girl, watches the men's exchange with wide, horrified eyes. Derek as in; Derek Hale? What did Derek Hale have to do with any of this? And how was Vanessa involved? None of this made any sense! Especially not the claws sprouting from the strange man's hands! Where had his nails gone? Why was he doing this? And where was Jackson? Did this man hurt him too, like he did Vanessa? And oh god, Vanessa! She's bleeding so much, she looks so pale- but wait, is that a smile? Yes, Lydia decided, yes she's smiling. But why? What is she seeing behind her fluttering eyelids?

"By the Argents?" Peter inquires. At Stiles frantic nod of confirmation the werewolf puts more pressure on the hand encircling Vanessa's neck. "And?" he prompts while relishing in the boy's obvious fear.

"When they- when they were shot I think he- I think he took Scott's phone," Stiles answers in a stutter before whispering, "Please, please don't hurt her."

What? Lydia thought. Scott was shot? When did that happen? And what did Allison's family have to do with any of this? She didn't understand! And she was so afraid- _so_ afraid that she couldn't move or speak or ask the questions battering her terrified mind. Hell, she could barely breathe!

"_Why?_" Peter pushes while glaring into Stiles wide, innocent eyes.

"They all have GPS now," the teenage boy answers while his hands twitch out towards Vanessa's angelic face. "If he still has it and it's still on we can- we can find him."

Lydia was so confused. Why did they want to track down Derek Hale? Was this man a police officer? No, he couldn't be. A police officer wouldn't hurt an innocent civilian like Vanessa! It just didn't make any sense!

"Fine," Peter nods while releasing his grip on the unconscious girl before getting to his feet and wiping the blood off of his claws. "You'll help me find him."

"I won't let you just leave her here!" Stiles protests while taking Vanessa in his arms. "Just kill me, okay? I don't care anymore!"

"St-Stiles," Lydia whimpers; gaining the strength to speak up and crawl over to the heartbroken boy. "What's g-going on?"

"Ah yes," Peter smiles. "How silly of me. Before we go, Stiles, I have to tie up a loose end. Hope you don't mind."

"_Ah!_" Lydia shrieked as Peter transformed into the monster that had been plaguing her dreams nearly all school year.

"Don't-!" Stiles cries in protest, but it's already too late. Peter's fangs had punctured Lydia's shoulder while his claws ripped her stomach and left upper arm open like freshly sharpened scissors slicing through paper.

"She knew too much," Peter shrugs while letting the now unconscious girl fall to the hard turf beside her already dying friend. "Now she'll either become one of us or die. Either way…" the man trails off before pulling an unconcerned expression.

"You're a monster," Stiles grits out between clenched teeth with a disgusted mixture of anger and horror.

"Oh c'mon," Peter tuts. "Don't look at me like that. Where's your sense of adventure?" Before Stiles has the opportunity to reply the werewolf is already hauling him to his feet by the collar of his dress shirt. "How about we give your friend Jackson a call, hmm?" Peter suggests condescendingly. "Tell him where they are. Hopefully he reaches them in time. It would be such a shame if they died, wouldn't it?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Upon arrival Jackson began to cry. He'd seen more horror movies in his lifetime than most, he watched them to disqualify the hours of Nicholas Sparks novels-turned-movies Lydia forced him to endure, but never did he think the gore in said horror movies could be so realistic. Jackson knew he had to make a decision; save Lydia or save Vanessa. He didn't choose Lydia because of the petty arguments he and the female McCall twin got into, but he chose Lydia because he loved her. Of course he did. Lydia is probably the only person Jackson cares about more than himself, and believe me-you Jackson _really_ cares about himself.

So he snatched up his ex-girlfriend bridal style and hauled ass back to the school, praying aloud that please, _please_ let Lydia be alright. Jackson had already given up on saving Vanessa the moment he laid eyes on her. He thought he'd be sending someone back to discover a body; not a victim. It never occurred to him just how strong Vanessa was and could be. Although, to be fair, you wouldn't have thought she'd make it through either. There was so much blood surrounding her and saturating her dress you would have thought she'd been drained of everything in her.

She hadn't, though. She was still very much alive; something the paramedics noted thankfully upon arrival, and thanks to many hours of surgery done by an acclaimed doctor named Harold Harolds she would _not_ be dying any time soon.

Stiles was unaware of this, though. He knew Jackson would put Lydia's life before Vanessa's, he _knew_ Jackson would deem her a lost cause, and it killed him. Stiles swore he'd never leave Vanessa, never let her get hurt again, yet here he was; driving away from the school as Vanessa lay (presumably) dying.

It was hard for Stiles to see the road through his tears.

"Aw," Peter coos, "don't feel bad. I mean, it's not as if I bit her."

"At least she'd be alive!" Stiles snaps while tightening his grip on the Jeep's steering wheel.

"She may still be," the werewolf responds. "Besides, I was only trying to give her what she wanted."

"Don't you _dare_ act like you know what Vanessa wants!" Stiles shouts. "Don't you_ dare_ talk about her!"

"You know," Peter begins conversationally, "my nephew can tell you all about the woes of young love when we find him. Maybe it'll help-"

"I don't want your help!" Stiles interrupts. "Once this is over I want you to leave me alone. I want you to leave this town. I want you-"

"Take a left," Peter interrupts the teen's rant uninterestedly. "And quit complaining. You're sucking all of the fun out of this."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Peter Hale forced Stiles to hack into Scott McCall's cellphone Vanessa was getting prepped for surgery.

Mellissa had been on ER duty that night, and when she and a team of medical staff got the radio that there had been a brutal double animal attack she had no idea her daughter would be one of the victims. When a paramedic rushed the gurney Vanessa was laying on into Mellissa's line of vision, the middle aged woman let out a wail and dropped to the floor with horror. When Mellissa's oldest and closest friend, a fellow nurse named Mindy, realized what had gone on she hurried the paramedics along and to the operation room; wanting to get Vanessa out of her friend's sight as quickly as possible.

"My baby!" Mellissa cried; catching the attention of everyone in hearing distance. She knew as a much livelier Lydia Martin was wheeled in moments later that Vanessa had been the one a paramedic had deemed 'a lost cause' when radioing in the situation, and Mellissa felt as if her whole world had collapsed. "My baby girl!" the middle aged woman wailed. "No, _no_ not my baby!"

A teary eyed Sheriff Stilinski bounds into the ER and immediately rushes to Mellissa's side. "It's gonna be okay," the police officer reassures her while pulling the woman shakily to her feet. "Vanessa's a strong girl; she'll be okay."

"Mellissa!" Mindy exclaims while rushing towards the distraught mother with a pen and clipboard in hand. "I'm so sorry to do this but if you want to sign the DNR you have to do in now before-"

"You save my baby," Mellissa interrupts with a shake of her head; denying the 'Do Not Resuscitate'. "Don't you dare come out here until you do."

"Of course, Lissa," Mindy smiles solemnly before scurrying back to the operation room. "Of course."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How could this have happened?" Mellissa questions while looking blankly down into her lukewarm Styrofoam-cup of coffee. Vanessa had been in surgery for 90 minutes now, and every twenty a nurse would pop out to tell Mellissa the team of surgeons had yet to stop in internal bleeding. It was nerve-racking, but the divorced woman was hopeful. She had, heartbreakingly, expected her daughter to die as soon as they opened her up, but 90 minutes later Vanessa's heart was still going strong. The only problem was, no one could guarantee it would continue to go that way.

Sheriff Stilinski heaves out a long sigh and rubs a hand tiredly down his face. "I don't know," the man answers sadly before taking a sip of his own caffeinated drink.

"There's still no word from the boys," Mellissa states monotonously. "Where could they be?"

"I don't know," the sheriff repeats. "But I have my men out there looking for them."

It was a hollow reassurance.

"What about Collin?" Sheriff Stilinski questions. "Is he on his way?"

Mellissa's lip curls at the mention of her ex-husband. "He's in Boca with Irene," she spits in disgust. "Since she'll be unable to travel after the wedding they decided to honeymoon early."

"Well is he flying out?" the police officer asks; already knowing the answer.

"No," came the Latina's short answer.

"Sheriff," Deputy Kane interrupts while approaching Mellissa and Mr. Stilinski's booth in the hospital cafeteria, "the boy who discovered the bodies is here."

"I've got to-"

"Go," Mellissa interrupts while meeting her old friend's blue eyes determinedly. "Find out if he knows what happened to my baby."

Eight minutes later, on the annual 20 minutes update, Mellissa heard the best news of her life.

"The bleeding's stopped. They're stitching her up now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Peter Hale offered Stiles the bite, it wasn't until the last moment that he said no. Peter had sold lycanthropy like Billy Mays promoted OxiClean, and to Stiles everything he offered sounded so good… but then he thought of Vanessa. He thought of how she had chosen death over a life as a werewolf. He thought of how there hadn't been a full moon over the last few months that she hadn't been hurt. He thought about how she cried and how terrified she'd become of her own brother… and then he thought that if he allowed Peter to change him, _he_ would be the one hurting Vanessa.

If she was still alive, that is.

And so Stiles pulled away, because he couldn't live with himself if he hurt Vanessa the way she's been hurt. Besides, she was more important to him than power. She was more important to him than everything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Sheriff Stilinski caught sight of his son he didn't know whether to be relieved or enraged. Vanessa had just been wheeled into a private room (Collin had paid for it to "make up" for not being there in person) and her pale, sunken, and lifeless face was visible through its large glass window. Stiles didn't even pass his father a spare glance as he approached the hospital room; an action that made up the sheriff's mind for him. Enraged. Sheriff Stilinski was _definitely _enraged.

"You know what?" the head of Beacon Hills' Police Department questioned while grabbing his son roughly by the collar. "It's good that we're in a hospital because I am gonna _kill you!_"

"I-I'm sorry I lost- lost the keys to my Jeep and had to run all the way here-" Stiles stutters helplessly and breathlessly while looking pointedly at his father's badge in an attempt to ignore his father's heated gaze.

"Stiles I don't care!" Sheriff Stilinski interrupts with a shout.

"Dad is-is she going to be okay?" Stiles questions in a trembling voice while peering around his father's shoulder.

The sheriff follows his son's line a vision and the Stilinski men look on to Mellissa stroking Vanessa's hair lovingly as tears stream down her face.

"They don't know yet," Sheriff Stilinski sighs while turning back to face his son.

"And Lydia?" Stiles gulps as beads of sweat drip down his temples.

"There's something going on with her," the officer sighs. "The doctors say it's like she's having an allergic reaction. Her body keeps going into shock."

Stiles breaks eye contact with his father in shame. It was the bite. It had to be killing her.

"Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski begins softly, "did you see anything? I mean, do you have any idea what attacked them?"

"No," Stiles lies while hating himself for it. "I have no idea."

"Okay," his father nods. "And what about Scott?"

"What do you mean?" Stiles asks in confusion. "What about him? Isn't-isn't he here?"

"What are you talking about? I've been calling him for hours but we've got no response."

"Yeah," the sheriff's son replies as fear creeps into his heart. "You're not gonna get one."

**Author's Note!**

**Next chapter will be a continuation of Code Breaker (the episode this stuff all takes place in) which will still be in Third Person's P.O.V., and then we'll be switching back to Vanessa narrating State Of Grace. I hope you guys liked how this turned out because I'm really proud of it.**

**If you have an account on fanfiction then check your PMs for my review replies!**

**Kat- I'm so happy you liked the dance/kiss scene! And I hope everything that happened this chapter cleared things up for you. Ah, thank you so much on the congratulations on reaching 100 reviews; I almost cried when I realized! Thanks again!**


	36. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

"Where are you going?" Jackson questioned while following Stiles down a deserted hall.

"To go find Scott," the sheriff's son determinedly answers while clenching his fist in annoyance.

"You're not even going to see Vaness-?" Jackson's back was shoved roughly against the wall before he had the opportunity to finish his accusation.

"Don't," Stiles growls. "Don't you _dare_."

Jackson pushes his peer away, but he surprisingly has to use a lot of effort. "Fine, okay," the rich boy nods. "But you don't have a car."

"I'm aware of that, thank you," Stiles replies in clipped tone as the pair begin striding forwards once more.

"I'll drive," Jackson offers while placing a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "C'mon-"

"Just because you feel guilty all of a sudden doesn't make it okay, alright? Half of this is still your fault!" the pale teen snaps while batting his lacrosse captain's hand away.

Jackson clenches his jaw in guilt. "Look, I have a car and you don't. Do you want my help or not?"

Stiles glances around the corridor in deliberation before caving. "Alright, did you bring th Porsche?"

"Yeah," the chiseled teen answers while taking his car keys form his pocket.

"Good," Stiles replies before snatching the keys from Jackson's hand and strutting away. "I'll drive."

"Boys," Chris Argent greets with a smile as he and two other men block off their exit. "I was just wondering if you could tell me where Scott McCall is."

"Scott McCall, uh…" Stiles batters his brain for a believable lie. "Haven't seen him since the dance."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chris Argent couldn't believe his ears. Stiles' suggestion that Kate had gone against the code was a radical notion… What he couldn't believe more, however, was how much sense the radical notion made.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chris Argent arrived at the Hale House just before his sister pulled the trigger on the gun aimed at Scott's head.

"Kate!" he called sharply; catching everyone's attention. As the father grew near his face became darker with anger. "I know what you did. Now put the gun down."

Kate Argent did not drop her weapon, but it was pointed a much less lethal place on Scott McCall's body than before. "I did what I was told to do," she responded.

"No one told you to kill innocent people," Chris denies with a disappointed shake of his head. "There were children in that house," he said while indicating to the Hale House's ruins. "Ones who were human. Look what you're doing now; you're holding a gun to a sixteen year old boy with no proof he's spilt human blood! We go by the code."

"We hunt those who hunt us," Allison whispers as she looks up to her aunt with wide, tearful eyes.

When Kate cocks her gun and tightens her finger on the trigger, Chris raises his own weapon and points it directly at his sister's heart. "Put the gun down," he orders in a steeled tone. "Before I put _you_ down."

_Creek!_

"Allison get back," Chris orders as he and his sister point their weapons at the Hale House's opening front door.

Scott and Allison scramble to their feet and the youngest Argent's heart begins to pound with fear.

"What is that?" she questions tearfully.

Scott's eyes flash golden as he stares into the blackness before them. "It's the alpha."

The fully transformed Peter Hale moves so quickly it's only a matter of seconds before both Chris and Allison are sprawled across the forest floor. Scott follows shortly after; leaving Kate the only man standing. Filled with paranoia and adrenaline she spins in circles with her gun drawn; ready to shoot at any given moment.

"C'mon!" she screams as the skies begin to open up; sending large droplets of rain down towards the earth. "C'mon!" Kate prompts again while spinning wildly. Mid-turn Peter Hale, in human form once more, catches her right wrist and clutches on tightly; causing the beautiful woman to pull the trigger twice.

Peter grabs Kate by her throat with his free hand before throwing her backwards and high into the sky. She lets out a scream while she's airborne before letting out an exclamation of, "Ow!" on impact.

When Peter Hale yanks Kate to her feet by her hair and drags her into the Hale House, Allison scrambles to her feet. "No!" she cries while running towards the blackened home.

"Oh Kate," Peter coos while tightening his hold on the woman's throat as Allison enters what used to be his family's living room, "she's beautiful. A lot like you. Which is why I'll give you the opportunity to save her. All you have to do," the werewolf in hales sharply as he becomes overwhelmed with emotions, "is apologize. Apologize for desiccating my family. For leaving me burned and in a coma for _six years_. Just do that and I'll let her live."

Kate's silent for a moment, and Allison looks to her aunt with an expression of desperation.

"I'm sorry," Kate rasps after a moment.

Not a second later her vocal chords are exposed to the world for all to see. Allison's eyes widen to the size of saucers as she watches her aunt's corpse hit the ground with an expression of terror immortalized on her pretty face.

"I don't know about you, Allison," Peter begins while taking a threatening step closer towards the girl, "but that didn't sound sincere at all to me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey! Hey! This isn't exactly an all-terrain vehicle," Jackson snaps as he and Stiles draw closer to the Hale House.

"Yeah?" Stiles questions. "Did you pay for it?"

"No," Jackson answers.

"Then shut up," Stiles snaps while tightening his grip on the Porsche's wheel to refrain from punching his companion _right_ in the face.

"Look if this is about Vanessa-" the lacrosse captain begins in poorly hidden frustration, only to be cut off by Stiles.

"You left her there to die," the enraged teen snaps.

"Yeah? Well so did you," Jackson retorts, "so don't act like I'm a horrible person. At least I tried to save _one_ of them."

"Keep talking Jackson," Stiles encourages, "that way I won't feel bad when I sick Scott on your ass for leaving his sister behind!"

Stiles knew he was right, though. It was just easier to blame Jackson that it was to blame himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As satisfying as it was to see Peter burn, it was tragic to end things the way they started; with fire. As Scott looked on he couldn't help but wonder how different his life would be if Kate Argent hadn't had set the large house behind him aflame. Still though, he would never have me Allison, never have learned the true lengths his sister and Stiles would go for him, never have made first line and overcome asthma. It was twisted to say the innocent lives lost had been worth it, so Scott settled on being thankful for the lost souls. He wished they found peace.

Scott's thoughts were interrupted when Allison approached him. The teenage boy turned away in shame but Allison's hand brought him back. He looked curiously into her eyes while shifting back into his human form, and just before the couple's lips touched Chris Argent awoke and got to his feet.

Chris' disapproving stare was short lived however, because his attention (as everyone else's) was taken elsewhere.

Derek Hale approached his uncle in a determined march. He was on a mission; one he refused to abort. Scott's pleading only sparked a hint of guilt. Derek couldn't truly bring himself to feel bad about what he was about to do; no matter how much he wanted to help Scott he wanted revenge more.

"Please, if you do this I'm dead!" Scott pleaded. "Her father, her family! What am I supposed to do?"

"You've," Peter pants, "already decided." His eyes glow crimson as Derek's clawed hand swings backwards in the air to gain momentum. "I can smell it on you!"

"No-no! Don't!" Scott yells in desperation just before Derek severs his uncle's neck.

Allison, Chris, Scott, Stiles, and Jackson watch in horror as Derek gets to his feet once more and growls, "I'm the alpha now."

**Author's Note!**

**This was a very, very short chapter (compared to the recent ones), I know, but I promise to make up for it in the next chapter! Vanessa will be back- or more accurately, conscious, and what happens may surprise you. I know a couple of you guys will be angry with me… still, Stinessa was promised as an endgame sort of thing! (that was a hint of what's to come, guys)**

**Anyway, review, review, review! Maybe it'll inspire me to update faster!**


	37. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

When I first woke up the only thing I could think about was how tired I felt. It's a strange thing; waking up tired but no matter how drowsy I felt I had the overwhelming urge to stretch out my still limbs and walk around. It was a sure sign that I'd been laying down for an extended period of time, and my muscles were begging to be used. After a moment of deliberation I decided to open my eyes; a seemingly small but big feat in my opinion. I mean, my eyelids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each so the fact I even made them twitch nearly left me breathless.

Speaking of breath, it wasn't until I was staring up at the speckled tiles of a hospital room's ceiling did I realize I was wearing an oxygen mask. With each inhale I could taste the unadulterated air, but it left my mouth and lips feeling dry and cracked. I looked around my hospital room, which was by far the nicest I'd ever been in to my surprise, in search of someone to bring me ice chips or perhaps a cup of water. I was surprised to find it empty. It was the first time I'd ever woken up alone in a hospital room after being seriously injured, and at the realization I felt oddly alone. Where were my boys? And where was Mom? What had I missed when I was unconscious? How _long_ was I unconscious? And what happened to Peter? To Lydia? To Stiles? Had they ever found Jackson? What-?

My panicked questions came to a halt when I break out into a fit of splutters and coughs. Okay, questions later, water _now_.

I fumble around my hard hospital bed for the remote that controls the elevation of your body among other things and press down on the Nurse's Station button a few times; hopefully paging someone familiar. I didn't like new staff; they didn't know the boundaries I set. For instance; if I'm awake you don't touch without asking, patronizing endearments like "Honey" are a big no-no unless you enjoy getting verbally assaulted, and if you're sticking me with a needle I need to be sedated first. My usual team had learned all of this from years of experience and to teach these lessons all over again would just be an annoyance.

"No Stiles you're not allowed in here!"

The familiar soprano of my mom's best friend Mindy Cavanaugh sounded out from the door of my hospital room; catching my attention and making my eyes widen at what I see there. Stiles was attempting to force his way into my room but Mindy was pushing him out using the door as a sort of poking stick.

"Dammit Mindy-!" Stiles' shout of protest was interrupted by the door, after a few moments of struggle, finally slammed in his face.

"Vanessa!" Mindy chirps breathlessly while turning her sneaker clad heel to face me with a bright smile on her face. "Welcome back to the land of the living!"

"Hey Mindy," I croak with a weak smile.

"Oh!" she exclaims while rushing over to the tray in the corner of my room. I watch in relief as she pours water into a fairly sized Styrofoam cup. "Here," she offers while moving the oxygen mask off of my mouth and to the underside of my chin. "Drink up, Nessa."

And drink up I do. Mindy refills the cup of water four times until I'm satisfied and able to speak without the uncomfortable feeling of cotton mouth.

"Thanks," I sigh while tiredly letting my head fall back against my hospital issue pillows. "What's with the fancy room?" I question while glancing curiously at a floral painting on a far wall.

"Your father paid for it," Mindy shrugs.

"Oh?" I ask in surprise while looking back to the overworked nurse hopefully. "Is he here?" From the uncomfortable expression that takes over Mindy's face I deduce an answer. "Right," I nod disappointedly. "Yeah."

"That cute boy Stiles has been outside all night, though," the African American woman informs me in an attempt to cheer me up. It works expertly.

"All night?" I echo with a growing smile.

"Well, all weekend really."

"How long have I been out?" I question as my eyes widen in alarm.

"Since Friday," Mindy answers. "It's Monday morning, now."

I gasp at the information. "It's Christmas Eve," I say with wide eyes. "Mindy, send him home."

"I've been trying to for days," she retorts with an exasperated roll of her eyes. "The boy refuses to leave."

My heart warms at the nurse's words. "Can you send him in?" I ask.

Mindy's face pulls into an uncomfortable frown. "You're not really supposed to have any visitors-"

"Mindy," I interrupt, "please."

"Fine," the woman sighs. "Do you want just Stiles or can your brother come in too?"

"Scott's here?" I question in surprise.

"Of course Scott's here," Mindy answers with a roll of her eyes. "He's nearly as bad as Stiles."

My eyes well with happy tears when I realize how stupid I'd been to think they would abandon me. They're my boys. Of _course_ they'd be here.

"Should I let them in, then?" Mindy questions while angling her body towards the door.

"Wait," I say; effectively stopping her. "Can I take a shower first?"

"Only if I help you," Mindy replies.

I grimace and ask, "How bad gross I look?"

"Kind of disgusting, actually," she answers with a teasing smile but serious tone.

"Okay," I nod. "Just don't make fun of me. I got my dad's tits. I don't really know what happened."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mindy," I began in a meek tone as the nurse helped me into my flannel and hospital-approved pajamas, "how badly are my injuries gonna scar?"

I didn't take off the bandages covering the majority of my abdomen when I showered; not because I wasn't allowed to but Mindy had suggested I didn't. When I asked why she pulled her uncomfortable 'I don't know what to say to this so I'm just gonna stare until you drop the subject' expression, so I assumed it was because my wounds were less than pretty and promptly changed topics. As use as I was to injury, I didn't like the idea of looking mangled for the rest of my life. The claw marks on my thigh from the night at the school still looked angry and pink, and I doubted my new wounds were any less gruesome than the others had been. It was embarrassing; looking the way I did. The confidence I had felt in my dress before Winter Formal had left me high and dry. As Mindy towel dried my hair I felt ugly and embarrassed and 'oh god who is ever going to want to see me naked?' which lead me to think of Stiles and how we kissed and how he's so cute and handsome and I'm damaged and ugly and- okay, I think you get the picture.

Let's just leave it at 'my self-esteem had hit an all-time low and flat lined from there', okay?

"If you clean them and moisturize-"

"Don't feed me that bull, Mindy," I interrupt while looking to her through the fogged mirror. "Tell me the truth."

"These wounds were deeper than your last ones, Nessa," the nurse sighs in defeat after a terse moment. "They'll be puckered and jagged from the stitches, but they're not nearly as large."

"Okay," I nod as Mindy begins to French braid my hair the way she used to when I was a girl and she baby sat Scott and I on our parents' date night. Knowing the scars would be small was a comforting thought. "I can deal with that."

"I think we're done here," Mindy states while helping me up from where I my seat on the close-lidded toilet.

My legs tremble and standing is exhausting. When I asked Mindy about my drowsiness she said it was because all of the sedatives had yet to leave my system. Mindy also told me that I was expected to wake up today since they stopped drugging me around this time yesterday morning. She said that later today I would have to give my statement to the police; they were investigating what happened to me along with Kate Argent's death (that information made me gasp and nearly lose my footing) and since I was the only conscious witness my accounts of the event was crucial. (I'd wondered what she meant by only _conscious _witness but didn't question her about it; deciding to instead ask the boys about it later.) I told her that was fine; that I just wanted to talk to my boys and mom first. Mindy said that they would contact the police department later and not to worry; she'd let Scott and Stiles in and call my house to tell Mom I'd woken up.

And so here I am, waiting complacently after being hooked back up to the various machines surrounding my bed (sans the oxygen, thank god) for the boys to barrel into my room; wild and desperate and panicked.

When the door leading into my hospital room opens I'm not disappointed.

"Ouch," I hiss while attempting to return Stiles' bone crushing embrace. "Stiles that's too tight."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes in a thick voice, although he doesn't loosen his grip. "I'm so, so sorry."

I get the feeling we're not just talking about his intense hugging skills anymore.

I couldn't help but wonder as my twin elbowed Stiles out of the way to give me a much gentler embrace if Stiles blamed himself for what Peter did to me. If anything it was my fault. I'd chosen death over lycanthropy (a foolish and prideful decision in retrospect) and paid the price. I messed with the proverbial bull and got the horns. I'd put my hatred for Peter over my survival. Speaking of-

"Guys," I say as my twin draws back, "what happened to Peter? I-I think I remember-" I cut myself off and narrow my eyes on Stiles face in an attempt to remember the foggy moments before I blacked out, "I remember he wanted you to help him find Derek… maybe? I don't-"

"Derek was being held captive by the Argents," Scott interrupts. "I tracked him down and helped him escape. Vanessa," my twin takes my hands in his own, "Peter's dead."

I suck in a sharp breath in surprise. "W-what?" I stutter as my eyes widen. "Dead? Are you sure?"

"Derek killed him," Stiles informs me while settling into a chair on the right side of my hospital bed.

I blink frantically for a few moments in confusion while looking down to my pale blue comforter. "Derek?" I breathe in confusion. My heart monitor begins to beep at a steadily faster rhythm as I fiddle with my hands with a furrowed brow. "I-I don't understand," I say in confusion while looking back up to my twin and Stiles.

"Calm down," Scott soothes while placing a comforting hand on my left shoulder.

"We'll explain everything," Stiles promises.

So they do. They tell me about how Jackson had told the Argents that Scott's a werewolf while Lydia and I were out looking for him, and as a result they forced Scott to reveal himself _right in front of Allison_ who, somehow, found out about her family's secret and was in the starting phase of training to become a hunter herself. While that was going on Stiles was telling Peter about the GPS in Scott's cellphone; trying to bargain his help for my life. I was told I hadn't been bitten, but instead Lydia had. Stiles said it was because Peter thought she "knew too much" and that Lydia's bite hadn't healed but she hadn't died either- but we would get back to that later, he'd said, because there was so much more that happened in between.

I didn't interrupt once as the boys told me about the events I missed, but I (very softly) began to cry at the news of Kate Argent and Peter's death. I didn't care what they did; I couldn't blame them for the lives they took. They were mad people brought to the brink of insanity by the situations they were put in. Yes, they were monsters, but they were still _people_. I couldn't help but think they were victims too; just like the Hale family members who perished in the house fire, just not as innocent.

When Scott told me about Derek's new ranking however, my tears dried. Scott was furious, that much was obvious, and although I partially understood I couldn't help but think Derek being an alpha wasn't exactly a bad thing. Derek was rough around the edges, sure, but after all he'd been through could we really blame him? Could we resent him? Yes, towards the end he had chosen to join Peter, but he did it out of ignorance and longing to want a family again. Derek was a Good Guy just like we were.

"Scott," I begin while reaching out to lay my hand on my twin's clenched fist, "is this really such a bad thing? I mean, this whole time Derek was just trying to-"

"Of course this is a bad thing!" Scott interrupts. "After all he's done to us-"

"And what has he done exactly, hmm?" I snap heatedly. "Give himself over to the Argents to save you? Help you remember if you'd killed that bus driver? Run in knowing he was risking his life to save Stiles' when he realized Peter was the alpha? What did he do that was so bad, Scott?"

"He took away my one chance at a cure," my twin growls while getting to his feet.

"That's if it had worked!" I argue.

"But it could have!" Scott shouts. "And I could be human right now, with Allison, and not have to worry about-"

"Do you _really_ think if you were cured everything would go back to the way it was?" I cut in, in an incredulous tone. "Peter tried to kill Lydia just because of this. The fact that Stiles and I know about you makes us a liability. At any time a werewolf could-"

"And at any time the Argents could kill _me_!" Scott interrupts. "Just because I'm a werewolf!"

"Scott just calm down, okay?" Stiles speaks up while taking a seat on my bedside and wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulder. "She doesn't need this right now."

"They wouldn't hurt you, Scott," I say softly while looking tearfully up at my brother. "They have a code."

"Which they_ obviously_ followed in the past!" my brother retorts sarcastically.

"Kate doesn't count," I dismiss. "And besides Allison wouldn't-"

"Allison hates me now."

"No she doesn't," I deny. "Scott, Allison wouldn't let them hurt you. Think about it. You said she wouldn't shoot you in the forest, right? Well she had no problem shooting Derek. You mean something to her." I inhale shakily before repeating firmly, "Allison wouldn't let them hurt you."

"And how do you know that?" Scott questions insecurely while taking his seat once more.

"Because if they were going to kill you," I begin surely, "they would have done it by now."

Before either boy can respond Mom bursts into the room; a blubbering mess.

**Author's Note!**

**So this chapter was over 1000 words longer than the last, which makes me happy and I hope satisfies you! Anyways, not much happened in this chapter but don't worry; action is coming!**

**I know a bunch of you will be sad Stiles and Vanessa didn't talk about the kiss and what it meant but in my (and hopefully your) opinion being caught up on all of the massive events she missed was more important. **

**Did Vanessa's reaction to Derek becoming the new alpha surprise you? She'd always sort of understood him, in a weird way, so I didn't think she'd be bothered by his new rank. In fact, she's sort of comforted by the fact that Derek is now the most powerful werewolf in Beacon Hills. How she feels about him changing students however (or more specifically Erica) has yet to be revealed, though that's mostly because it hasn't happened yet, lol.**

**Anyways, loads is to come! The next chapter will take place during Beacon Hills High's holiday break, and as mentioned this chapter took place on Christmas Eve! I seriously doubt anyone's feeling the Christmas spirit though; especially not Vanessa. I mean, how much does it suck to spend Christmas in the hospital? I can tell you from personal experience it really, really sucks! Maybe Stiles will cheer her up though? Hmm… guess you'll just have to wait and see.**

**I apologize for not posting this earlier today; I kind of collapsed from dehydration late in the day yesterday and had to go to the hospital. I was released early this morning but couldn't bring myself to write until just a little while ago. I hope you guys understand!**

**Please review! I thank all of my usual reviewers and invite new ones to stop in. Pretty, pretty please? The more I hear from you guys the more I want to write, so please motivate me!**

**Xoxo, and DFTBA!**

**Also Kat- Thank you for asking how I'm doing! As mentioned… not so well. If my health ever gets in the way of my writing I'll post and author's note and update you guys as I know, but thanks again for asking and reviewing!**


	38. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

When you think of Christmas morning you usually have a feeling of nostalgia think back to past December 25ths where you would wake up to the smell of pine trees and the sound of younger family members already tearing the paper off of their gifts. I like to enjoy hot chocolate on Christmas morning, not unlike any other day, and if you share the tradition perhaps your senses can recall the cocoa liquid's warmth and rich smell. The point is: no one associates disinfectant sprays, florescent lighting, and the sound of Mr. Gellar screaming at his nurses with Christmas time. Unfortunately though, that's exactly the reality of my holiday this year.

And that sucks. Like, really badly. Really, _really_ badly.

I mean, Mom took a shift so she could work all day today _and_ be home the day I'm discharged, so I got to see her when she made her rounds, and Scott had spent two hours with me this morning before heading over to Cousin Maria's which was nice, but it's five o'clock now and Mom isn't due to do another round for another hour and I'm completely alone with only seven channels to keep me at bay; _none _of which are good. I'm so depressed I even contemplated calling an emergency session with Dr. Franks just so I could complain to someone without feeling like a total whiner.

It's safe to say this is my worst Christmas yet, and if I ever experience one that tops this I'll just conform to Judaism or something.

Just before my pity-part hit new lows a familiar and welcomed voice exclaimed, "Ho, ho, ho!" cheerfully as my hospital room's door opened with flourish. "Merry Christmas!"

"Stiles," I gasp in surprise while smiling at the pale teenage boy. "What are you doing here?"

"I come bearing presents," he informs me while taking a seat the foot of my bed. I watch as he places a backpack beside him as I retract my legs and sit up crisscross-applesauce eagerly. "I brought my portable DVD player," he pulls said item out of the bag, "and _this_."

My eyes widen at the box-set collection Stiles is displaying with a prideful smile before I snatch the discs from his hand with a big grin. "Oh my gosh!" I exclaim in surprise. "Vampire Diaries Season 1!"

"Yeah," Stiles acknowledges before sarcastically adding, "I figure we didn't have enough mythical drama in our lives."

I let out a squeal of excitement before launching myself at him; wrapping my arms tightly around his neck in an enthusiastic embrace. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I tell him before pulling back and asking hopefully, "watch them with me?"

"Of course," Stiles replies easily before reaching back into his bag. "But that's not all."

When he pulls out a pink Santa hat I let out a much needed laugh. "For Christmas spirit," he said while pulling the cap snuggly onto my head.

"You're the best," I tell him softly while giving him a touched smile.

My breath catches when Stiles suddenly leans forwards, and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me and panic because I'd yet to brush my teeth today, but relax when he simply pecks my cheek and pulls away; saying happily, "Only 'cause you deserve it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I'd be lying if I said my close proximity to Stiles made focusing on The Vampire Diaries. It made my heart beat a little faster, sure, (which was announced to the world thanks to my heart monitor- Stiles' smirk at the realization had only made it worse) but I've liked Stiles for _years_. I had enough practice under melt belt to be able to follow the plotline and gasp at appropriate parts and jump when Damon got a little out of hand, but unlike every other time I'd vegged out with Stiles over the last few years I couldn't immerse myself in the beautiful plotline that is TVD. At first I thought it was because I'd seen the episodes about a million times but as I drowsily leant my head against Stiles' left shoulder, causing him to wrap his arm around my upper body and cuddle my to his chest, I realized the amount of times I'd watched my favorite show didn't matter. I couldn't lose myself in TVD because there was a pressing question on my mind about the boy (who was so immersed in the Salvatore brother's love triangle it was comical) beside me. The question being: what were we now?

And I mean, that's a good question, isn't it? Stiles had kissed me, made a vague confession of him being "sure", then I kissed him, and then Lydia interrupted and my guts were promptly spilled; leaving me with uncertainty and a pretty gruesome pair of wounds which I unveiled this morning.

It was a lot to take in.

I didn't know what to do about me and Stiles. I didn't know if I should ask him straight out if we were together, or if I should just bring up the kiss, or if I should talk to him about anything at all. I mean, if he wanted to address the elephant in the room then he would, right? Or was he waiting for me to do it? Was he just as confused and insecure as I was? And if I did ask Stiles what we were, what would be the answer I'm looking for?

Ugh! Why do things have to be so _complicated_?

… Well, they didn't really. I was just making them seem that way.

I could easily tell Stiles what's on my mind; easily question what his intentions had been when he kissed me. He would answer, and we would go from there. So should I do it? Should I ask him? It seems so simple but so scary… Do I have the guts?

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

I blink owlishly to clear my vision and find Stiles looking curiously down to me with a sort of frown. "Sorry," I apologize. "I didn't realize."

No. No, I most definitely did not have the guts.

"Nessa," Stiles begins while pausing Delena's big moment, "what's wrong?"

We shift around the hospital bed until he's sitting up with his legs crossed like a kindergartener and I'm lounging lazily beside him before I answer.

"Nothing," I say. It's surprising how truthful my answer feels. And what was wrong, honestly? I was perfectly content the way I am. Sure there was a little mental panic but I'm a teenage girl- I dealt with that sort of thing all of the time. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

It was an invitation to bring up the kiss accompanied by a pointed look Stiles couldn't have missed out on, but he doesn't. Instead Stiles gives a meek, "Oh," before asking, "do you want to talk about it?"

_That_, I recognized immediately, was an invitation for_ me_ to bring up the kiss.

"Not right now," I answered; hoping he understood the double meaning behind my words. "Soon, Stiles, hopefully very soon… just not right now."

I watched as his face fell for moment before lighting up with a smile. "Okay," he nods. "Okay. Just let me do something first."

"What-?"

Before the word was even fully spoken Stiles' lips were crashing into my own; my heart monitor's frantic beeps drowning out the sounds of my insecurity about morning breath.

"Damn," Stiles breathes while pulling back with a smirk. I watch with wide, surprised eyes as he points beside my bed to the machine standing there. "I wish that thing was around all the time."

"Shut up," I blush while holding back a gleeful smile. "Just shut up."

**Author's Note!**

**I am eagerly awaiting your unhappy reviews about what's happened but hoping they won't come.**

**That's a ridiculous thought though. Of course they're coming.**

**Sigh. I hope you guys aren't too angry with me. Right now just isn't the time for Stinessa. It's coming, sure, but not right now.**

**I'm really dreading posting this chapter. Not only is it short but something really unfavorable happened. I've actually been talking myself out of just writing a Happily Ever After just to please you guys but, at the end of the day, this is my story. I am writing it and I wrote this to benefit SOG's plotline. State Of Grace is more than just a love story… it's Vanessa's story. She's a complicated unsure teenage girl and I just… please don't be mad?**

**Or do be mad. Everyone's entitled to their opinions. So I guess I'd rather have a bunch of unhappy reviews than no reviews. I just hope you guys don't abandon me and this story? Please? I love you guys? Question mark?**

**I don't know if I'll update tomorrow because honestly my health has taken a major turn for the worst. Sigh.**

**I love you guys DFTBA**


	39. Chapter 36

**Happy Season 2 of Teen Wolf in State Of Grace! I'm sorry for not updating sooner but this flare up has been really, really bad. I've only gotten sick worse than this one time and honestly I'm on my way there again. I'll try to keep updates as frequent as I can; thanks so much for understanding. Also, I'm really surprised as many people liked last chapter as they did. From previous reviews I'd been under the impression everyone just wanted Stiles and Vanessa to get together already so I was shocked to see that so many of you were okay with the fact that they aren't. Huh, let me know your opinions in the reviews? Thanks!**

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

Four days passed with seldom activity. I spent most of my time either watching movies (the Stilinski family's portable DVD player had been graciously loaned to me) or sitting at Lydia's bedside; brushing her hair or painting her nails. Sometimes both. Beacon Hills' hospital had good staff, sure, but they didn't realize that if Lydia didn't brush her hair two hundred strokes a day her ends would dry up and become brittle nor did they know that every other day Lydia changes the color of her nails to a different shade of coral. I would apply our mutual favorite chap stick on her lips every twenty minutes and moisturized her face as soon as I walked into her hospital room and before I walked out. In the days spent at her bedside I oddly grew closer to Lydia than I ever felt, but more reserved around the others.

The responsibility I felt for Lydia's comatose state was suffocating, and with each passing hour I grew more and more anxious for her to wake up. Neither Scott nor Stiles could convince me otherwise; Lydia being bitten was my entire fault. I _knew_ something bad was going to happen the moment we stepped out of the school yet I didn't say anything; didn't do anything; didn't protect her. The guilt accumulated and by the second night of visiting my friend my nightmares were back and with a vengeance. Peter may have died but everything he put me and my friends through lived on; festering in the back of my mind like a tumor.

Which was why, when my doctor, Dr. Harold Harolds (Double H fondly), gave me the go-ahead to go back home I'd been ecstatic. Maybe a change of scenery would lift my spirits? I sure as hell would be more comfortable at home. I could shower without the assistance of Mindy and- holy crap- take a nice, long, _soothing_ bath! I could hear Damien Rice's smooth tenor floating through my iDock's speakers now; calling my name.

_Vanessa! _

_Vanessa!_

"Vanessa!"

Okay, so maybe it wasn't Damien Rice who was calling me; maybe it was my mom.

"What?" I questioned in confusion while snapping back to reality.

"I said it's time to go," Mom answers while slinging my tote filled with personal items over her shoulders and giving me a concerned look. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

"Fine," I answer reflexively before tacking on, "just excited to be heading home," with a convincing smile for assurance.

Mom's been growing progressively worried with each time she sees me due to my inexplicable spacey persona. Being as quiet as I have been was unlike me; usually there was always a sarcastic retort or snide remark on the tip of my tongue, but since I'd begun visiting Lydia I've retracted into myself. Scott and Stiles were beginning to worry as well, which only added to my guilt; making me more quiet and continuing the vicious cycle. I didn't realize just how much Lydia's crude remarks of 'get your head out of your fat ass Vanessa' kept me grounded until they were gone. I was really starting to miss my friend. We weren't always the closest and we fought like cats and dogs but Lydia had always been a part of my life. A lively, vivacious, bitchy part that made me feel less mean in comparison. While I was only 40% evil Lydia was 60, and that made my esteem rise. We fed off of each other's meanness. Who else would make fun of freshmen with me during lunch? Who else would get away with telling Mr. Stilinski I was having sex with his son? Who else would go on therapeutic shopping trips and prompt me to spend my dad's money? No one besides Lydia Martin, that's who, and to see her in the state she's in is just… hard. Really, really hard.

"Okay," Mom nods with a voice full of skepticism. "Let's get going then."

XXXXXXXX

Being home again didn't exactly _lift _my spirits like I thought it would. I got to spend nearly all of my time with Stiles and Scott, which was great don't get me wrong, but the way the boys and my mom walked on eggshells put my teeth on edge. Not to mention the fact that being home meant I once again had access to the outside world- or more importantly the internet. Lydia and my Facebook walls were littered with _get better soon_!s from people, I'm sure, we've barely said two words to.

It's amazing; you get attacked by a "cougar" (that's the story the boys and I decided I would give to the sheriff) and suddenly every person in your high school thinks the sun shines out of your ass.

Before I knew it the world was in a new year and school was right around the bend. I was dreading going back to Beacon Hills High; not because my abdomen ached whenever I so much as breathed (which was very true) but because I mentally wasn't ready to face homework and teachers and quizzes. Dr. Franks (whose sessions had been changed to twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays via telephone) said, when I told him my distaste for returning to school, "I understand you've gone through a rough patch recently, Vanessa, but the world keeps turning. This is a new year; a new slate. You can do anything you want to do; you just have to actually do it." It was a great tidbit of wisdom, sure, but it didn't have anything to do with Mr. Harris or Algebra 1. I just think Franks wanted to say something profound, to be honest. Still, continuing my sessions was really starting to take a load off of my shoulders. Dr. Franks was, essentially, my replacement Lydia. I bitched and complained about anything and everything to him. He didn't give me sassy backtalk or squeal over newly uncovered gossip but my sessions were actually starting to feel therapeutic- something I desperately needed.

The sense of relief never lasted long, however. Usually an hour after Dr. Franks' and my phone call I would be back to brooding; scowling out at my window or trying to busy myself with Stiles' company. It was a strange feeling; to not have Stiles be my safe haven. Through everything he'd always been the beacon of light at the end of my tunnel, and he was still there for me, don't get me wrong, but his smiles didn't make everything float away like they used to. I still like him, sure, or love maybe, and he cheered me up better than anyone but even with him at my side there was the constant cloud of Lydia's injuries hanging over my head; eclipsing Stiles' light and dimming everything around me. I knew things would go back to normal, or as normal as they could get in my life, eventually but first Lydia needed to _wake up!_ I wouldn't be able to sleep a full night until she did; wouldn't be able to smile and laugh without feeling guilty that she was incapable of being happy in her current state; wouldn't be able to just _breathe_ without feeling the weight of her injuries on my chest, which was why when Mrs. Martin's (I had the seven digits memorized since I dialed them at least twice a day) phone number lit up on my newly replaced iPhone I pounced at the call- eager to hear any sort of good news.

"Mrs. Martin-"

"She's awake!" the older woman interrupts with jubilation that makes a smile a mile wide appear on my tired face.

"Are you serious?" I ask breathlessly while meeting Stiles' confused eyes.

"She's asking for you," Mrs. Martin tells me with happy tears in her voice.

"I'm on my way now," I tell her while struggling to untangle myself from my cocoon of cozy blankets.

"She's awake," Mrs. Martin repeats with a sob. "My baby's okay."

"Tell Lydia I'll get there as soon as I can," I say as Stiles helps me to my feet before locking my phone's screen and sliding the object into my sweater's pocket. "She's awake!" I echo Mrs. Martin's words happily while winding my arms around Stiles' neck and bringing my sort of friend down into an excited embrace.

"That's great," Stiles smiles while pulling away and looking down to me once more.

"Please take me to the hospital?" I beg while widening my eyes with innocence. "Please, please, _please_?"

He looks reluctant for a moment before caving with a smile and nod. "We have to corroborate her story anywa-"

"Eek!" I squeal while hugging Stiles vigorously once more; ignoring the pain that shoots up my navel. "Thank you!" I exclaim while running over to the small closet under our staircase to pull out my rain boots and winter accessories (i.e. scarf, mittens, and hat). It had begun to snow nearly an hour ago now and the temperature was dropping by the minute so I needed to be prepared. The cold January weather only seemed to lift my spirits further. Being a winter baby didn't mean I wasn't sensitive to the cold, but it's always my favorite time of year. I'd missed out on Christmas and New Years, sure, but the news of Lydia _finally_ waking up was worth a million more holidays.

"C'mon!" I prompt while throwing a spare scarf set at Stiles' head. "Let's go!"

XXXXXXXX

_Ding!_

I flounce out of the hospital elevator with a skip only to stop short at the sight before me. Sheriff Stilinski is awkwardly patting a sobbing Mrs. Martin on the back while attempting to question her. A few police officers can clearly be seen scouring Lydia's private room while Mindy is being spoken to by a deputy near the nurse's station.

What the hell is going on?

"Dad?" Stiles questions as he takes his place at my side while grabbing my right hand in his left. "What are you doing here?" he asks while tugging me towards his father and Mrs. Martin.

"She's gone," Mrs. Martin sobs inconsolably while propelling herself into my arms; catching me by surprise and making me stumble a few steps back while returning the too-tight embrace with a grimace.

"Lydia?" I question stupidly while stroking the older woman's hair and giving Sheriff Stilinski a look of confusion. "What do you mean Lydia's _gone_?" She wasn't -oh god- she isn't _dead_ is she?

"She's gone missing," Sheriff Stilinski informs his son and me gruffly.

"What?" I yelp in surprise. "How?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," the officer answers as Lydia's mom pulls her head from my shoulder. "Mrs. Martin?" he prompts patiently.

"W-well," she hiccups, "Lydia wanted to take a sh-shower and the next thing I know I-I heard her scream and when I went into the bathroom the window was op-opened and she was gone!"

"We'll need a description Mrs. Martin and-"

"She's five foot three, has green eyes, fair skin, and her hair is strawberry blonde- not red but _strawberry blonde_," I interrupt in a slightly wheezing tone as my head begins to spin. "Sheriff you _have _to find her," I plea while reaching out and grabbing the older man's forearm desperately. "It's snowing and cold and-"

"Everyone in the county will be out looking for her," Sheriff Stilinski reassures both me and Mrs. Martin. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go radio that description in."

"Oh wait!" I call as Stiles' dad begins to walk away. I jog to catch up with him; wincing with each impact my heels make to the tile floor. "She's naked, right?" I question rhetorically before continuing. "Lydia has this birthmark," I say while pointing unabashedly to my left breast. "It kind of looks like a tractor or a wagon- I don't really know but her boyfriend Jackson could-"

"A birthmark should do just fine, Nessa," Sheriff Stilinski interrupts uncomfortably but with a reassuring tone and smile. "Don't worry; my boys'll find her," he says before walking away; bringing his radio up to his mouth while doing so.

XXXXXXXX

Before I knew it the police had left Beacon Hills and were out in the snow; conducting a search party for my missing friend. Forest rangers, citizens, and police officers alike were scouring the woods for hide or hair of Lydia, but I wasn't stupid enough to think they'd find her. Beacon Hills Preserve stretched out for miles upon miles. That and the grueling conditions out there were neither in their or Lydia's favor.

Mrs. Martin had gone home to wait just in case Lydia went there. It was doubtful, but I guess waiting by the phone in your own house was more comforting than going down to the police station like Mr. Stilinski had offered. Plus it gave Mrs. Martin something (seemingly) productive to do.

I, on the other hand, didn't have that luxury.

You see, Stiles had shared my doubts on his father and co. finding Lydia tonight (and more importantly finding Lydia _before _she froze to death) so he called my brother, who had been off canoodling with his again-girlfriend in for reinforcements. They, as a group, (Allison had come along of course; Lydia is her friend after all) decided that I wasn't allowed to join their search party. Something, I'm sure, you can imagine did not go over well with me.

"I'm _going_," I snap while glaring hatefully up at Stiles.

"No," he denies, "you're not."

"Allison," I begin pleadingly while looking to said girl, "you've got to take my side on this. Lydia's my friend too, remember? My _best _friend! _Please_!"

"Sorry Vanessa," the pretty girl smiles sympathetically while transferring her crossbow inconspicuously from her car to Stiles' Jeep (we were in the hospital's parking lot, after all), "but you're still hurt from Formal."

Hot, angry tears build up in my eyes and I try my hardest to keep my bottom lip from trembling. "So is Lydia!" I cry while stomping my foot childishly; relishing in the pain the action causes. "And if you recall _I_'m the reason we both got hurt in the first place! You _have _to let me make this right, _please-_!"

"No, Vanessa!" Scott interrupts with a shout while pointing towards the hospital entrance's doors. "Now go inside and wait for us to come back and get you."

I look to my friends' and brother's faces, one by one, for a moment before blinking frantically; letting my tears drip helplessly down my cheeks. "Fuck you," I snap angrily while furiously wiping the water away from my face before turning my heel and beginning to stalk back towards the lit building.

"Vanessa!" I hear Stiles call from somewhere behind me. "Don't be mad!"

"Fuck you!" I shout back while ignoring the strange looks I'm getting and wiping at my face once more.

I don't care that I'm acting childish, because it's my fault Lydia's out there in the first place and my _stupid_ brother and his (yes, for the moment just his) _stupid_ friends won't let me help.

Well fuck you. I'll help in a different way then.

I pull my cellphone out and go to a secluded corner of the hospital's waiting room before searching through my contacts for the needed name. I find it, double click, and pull the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" a gruff voice snaps in greeting.

"Derek?" I question uncertainly. "It's Vanessa McCall, Scott's-"

"Sister," he finishes. "Yeah, what do you want?"

**Author's Note!**

**DUN DUN DUNNNN**

**Let me know what you think happens next? I'll be posting soon; I know that bc it's already almost done. Hope you liked this chapter. DFTBA**


	40. Chapter 37

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

"My friend Lydia, the girl who Peter bit before he-" I cut myself off and clear my throat uncomfortably. "Anyway, she's missing. The Argents think she's transitioning and you need to find her before-"

"Is Scott looking for her?" Derek interrupts.

"Yeah," I answer slowly; confused as to what that has to do with anything. "He's tracking her scent but-"

"Then let him find her," the lone Hale snaps. "I'm in the middle of something."

The next thing I know he's already hanging up and I'm left gob smacked by his gall.

I stare down at my blank cellphone for a long, unblinking moment before angrily stomping to my feet and dramatically exiting the hospital through its automatic doors. I couldn't _believe _him! Derek Hale, the man I inexplicably trusted to lead my brother in werewolfdom (that's definitely not a word), had denied helping Lydia because he was "in the middle of something". What kind of _bullshit_ is that? What could he, Mr. M.I.A., have to do? Home renovations? Mark his territory? Bury a bone in the backyard?

I march past the bus stop I'd waste away in as a Candy Striper and trek on; eager to walk home and burn off the enraged energy that's making my fingertips tingle. Fuck waiting for Stiles to come pick me up. I send the boy a quick text message; _taking the bus home_, and then shut off my cellphone so I don't see his reply. It'd probably be an order to stay inside. Well newsflash Stilinski, I wasn't asking permission!

I stomped all the way home; yes, the whole forty-two minute walk, and while it was great for my emotional state I felt as if I popped the stitches on my still-healing wound. I didn't though; I'd checked, but it sure as hell felt that way. School was sure going to be _fun_ tomorrow!

XXXXXXXX

They didn't find her. It was snowing, the temperature was progressively beginning to drop, and they didn't find her.

There would be hell to pay if Lydia Martin didn't make it out of this alive.

_Hell_.

XXXXXXXX

"Vanessa," my mother's tired voice coos in my ear as I'm gently shaken awake. "It's time to wake up."

I let out an unattractive groan and bury my face deeper into my pillows. "I don't _wanna_ go to school," I whine.

"And I don't want to work for a living," Mom replies unsympathetically while giving my upper back a few condescending pats. "Now get up," she orders while getting to her feet, "or else you're gonna be late."

"Are you driving us today?" I question while sluggishly slinking over to my closet.

"Nope," Mom answers while picking a pair of discarded socks up from the floor.

"But Mom it's _cold_!" I pout while throwing a decent outfit onto my desk.

"It's also early," Mom says as she and I exit my room, "and I don't have to be in at work until 12. Why don't you just call Stiles? He could-"

"I'm not talking to Stiles," I snap before diving into our bathroom; slamming the door loudly in her face.

Okay, so maybe that was unnecessary but I'm tired and sore and mad at my friends and really, really angsty right now. She'll get over it.

I lazily pull my hair into a disastrous looking bun at the top of my head before taking my sweet time with my morning rituals. It was amazing how much time I wasted when I did so little. I honestly don't think I'd ever put such little outfit into my appearance since I entered high school (though, as always, I looked adorable). Minimal makeup, a sloppy hair style, and plethora of layers later I had ten minutes to kill before even thinking of leaving for school. Ha, and Mom thought I was gonna be _late_.

I brew myself a cup of peppermint hot chocolate and sip it occasionally with painful boredom and exhaust from my seat at a stool at our kitchen island. I was too tired this morning to even be worried about Lydia. I'd been up half the night staring anxiously out into the woods surrounding my house as if she would suddenly appear and I was severely regretting it. I wasn't too tired enough for anger, though; that much was clear when Scott entered the kitchen.

"Stiles is here," my twin informs me disinterestedly while going for the cereal cabinet.

My brow skyrockets and I swivel around to get a clear view of our driveway out of the kitchen's bay window. Sure enough the Jeep is sitting there idly; spewing toxic fumes from its exhaust pipe while concealing its driver with tinted windows.

"_Why_?" I question flatly while turning to face my brother once more.

"Because he thinks you're mad at him," Scott answers while pouring himself a bowl of Fruit Loops.

"I am mad at him," I state before taking a sip out of my thermos. "That still doesn't explain why he's sitting in our driveway."

"He's driving you to school," Scott says through his mouth full of cereal as he takes a seat adjacent to me.

"No he isn't," I deny.

"Uh, yeah he is," my twin replies easily.

"I'd rather walk," I say. "Or ride with you."

"But you're mad at me," Scott says in confusion.

"I'm also mad at Stiles."

"What's the difference?"

I roll my eyes in exasperation. "You're my brother," I say, "and Stiles is-"

"Your boyfriend?" Scott finishes.

"_No_," I snap with narrowed eyes. "What I mean is, you're my brother and I have to deal with you. I don't _have_ to deal with Stiles."

"So what," Scott prompts, "you're just going to stay mad at him forever?"

"Maybe," I shrug, although we both know very well that is not the case.

"Well too bad," my brother shrugs, "because you can't ride with me."

"What?" I yelp in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because Allison's picking me up."

"Then I'll just go with you and Allison."

"No."

I purse my lips in irritation while narrowing my eyes further on my twin. "_Why not_?" I grit out through clenched teeth.

"Because I don't want to hear Stiles whine about how you didn't forgive him all day. You need to stop being a bitch and get over it."

I recoiled at Scott's words as if I'd just been slapped before hopping down to my feet and storming out of the house; throwing an exclamation of "fuck you!" over my shoulder before slamming the front door for the added affect.

When the hell had my brother grown some balls?

"I'm only letting you take me to school because Scott's a dick and I'm too sore to walk," I announce while entering the Jeep; shutting the passenger's side door beside me and pointedly looking anywhere but Stiles. "So let's just get to school and get this over with."

"Vanessa," I hear Stiles sigh; obviously trying to give my attention which I stubbornly withhold.

To be honest I don't even know why I'm so mad at Stiles. Well okay I do, he'd refused to allow me to help search for Lydia, but there was no reason why I wasn't equally as angry with Scott. Scott had been the only one to snap at me and demand I scurry back to the hospital, but I still couldn't help but feel betrayed by the sheriff's son. He knew how I felt like no one else did; saw my pure unadulterated joy at the news of Lydia's awakening, and for him to deny me the comfort of looking for my lost friend was a mean thing of him to do. I don't care how injured I am; if I want to help then I should be allowed to help. And who was he anyway, to deny me?

"Vanessa," Stiles repeats; sternly this time while grabbing my upper left arm; effectively catching my attention and making me look to up to his pleading expression.

"We have to get to school," I state while jerking my arm out of his grasp.

"We have fifteen minutes," he retaliates with a furrowed and frustrated brow.

"Then we'll be early!" I snap while raising my voice fractionally.

"Would you just let me talk?" Stiles snaps back.

"Fine!" I exclaim. "Fine, please Stiles, _tell_ me what's on your mind. I'm dying to know!"

"Why are you so mad at me?" Stiles questions heatedly with obvious surprise. "What did I do?"

"You wouldn't let me go look for Lydia!" I answer loudly.

"It's not like we found her anyway!"

"That's beside the point!" I shout dismissively with a flourished wave of my hand. "Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"Who am I to-?" he splutters breathlessly while going pink in the face. "Gee, I don't know Nessa," Stiles muses loudly, "maybe I'm just the guy who got to watch you get ripped to pieces not too long ago after basically telling you I'm in love with you!"

I _hate_ being reminded of Winter Formal; the guilt was eating me alive as it is.

I let out a surprisingly feral growl and move my body so I'm sitting on my knees and facing Stiles completely. "That gives you _no_ right to tell me-!"

"I'm just trying to protect you!"

"I don't _need_ your protection!"

"Your hospital records say differently!"

"I can make my own decisions!"

"Not good ones!"

"Says you!"

"Yeah, Vanessa, says _me_!"

"Well who asked you?!"

There's a pregnant pause that makes my insides freeze. Stiles' face transforms from look of rage (which I had shared until just a moment ago) to an incredulous expression as his eyes turn soft as they gaze into mine. Our breathing is labored as we try desperately to catch it and I wonder if perhaps I'd taken this too far.

"No one _needs_ to ask me, Vanessa," Stiles says softly while his right hand reaches out to gently cup my face. I hadn't even realized I'd begun crying until his thumb swipes a tear away. "I'm just trying to keep my promises," he tells me with heartfelt emotion. "I'm just trying to keep you safe."

"That's not fair," I sniffle while bringing my left hand up so I can lay it on his outstretched appendage. "Not to you or me," I say while conjoining our hands and bringing them down to the space between us.

"I just want to keep you safe," Stiles replies in a voice only fractionally louder than a whisper.

"And I just want to find my friend," I confess in a pleading tone. "What if it was me out there, Stiles, and Scott wouldn't let you go looking?"

"That's different," he dismisses.

"No it isn't," I deny with a shake of my head.

"Vanessa I wouldn't _let_ him tell me no."

I recoil and glare at him in anger. "So what, I didn't _try_ hard enough-?"

"That's not it!" Stiles interrupts while mirroring my position and taking my face in his hands once more.

"She's my best friend, Stiles," I whimper; terrified of the emotions shining in his iced-coffee eyes. "_You_'re my best friend. It's not different you're just-"

"But we're not just best friends, Vanessa," Stiles denies with a shake of his head. "You know that."

"I don't _know_ anythi-"

My eyes widen before fluttering closed at the surprising feel of Stiles' desperate lips pressing against mine. It was the first time he'd kissed me since Christmas, and no matter how angry I was at him I couldn't deny how much I missed the sensation. But, as Stiles' kisses always seem to, it's over all too soon and he's speaking once more.

"You _know_ Vanessa," he breathes as I dazedly open my eyes once more. "You know."

**Author's Note!**

**Short chapter, I know, but I'm only just getting back into the swing of things. And besides, I really, **_**really**_** like the way this chapter worked out. There was a tone of Stinessa action; a fight, kiss, revelation, UGH the drama!**

**Isaac will make an appearance next chapter, hurray! He's up there on my favorite character lists, and I may write an Isaac/OC story once this one is finished. I don't want to write more than one story at one time in fear of being side tracked or distracted or paying more attention to one story than another- something I often see when authors bite off more than they can chew. Anyways, if you guys are into Isaac/OC stories let me know in the reviews; maybe it'll help sway my decision to write one or not.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter; it was definitely one of my favorites of this story. Things are getting intense between Stiles and Vanessa, and I can't wait until the moment where everything just boils over.**

**Review and DFTBA!**


	41. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Hey, are you done making out with my sister already? We're gonna be late for school!"

I jump in surprise at my brother's knocking and words to violently my head smashes against the Jeep's roof with a _bang!_

"Ow!" I yelp while clutching my tender skull. "What the hell?" I snap while turning to look at my brother, who is entering the Jeep with a roll of his eyes. "What are you doing?" I ask in surprise and frustration.

"Buckling my seatbelt," Scott answers in a plain tone. "Obviously."

I roll my eyes at his response and twist my body until I'm seated properly in between my boys. "Yes Lassie, I can see that," I snap before my lips quirk upwards proudly at the sound of Stiles' laughter. "But _why_?"

"Because we have to get to school."

At my twin's words Stiles puts the Jeep in reverse and carefully begins to navigate through the icy back roads of Beacon Hills.

"You said Allison was driving you," I say while eyeing my brother curiously.

"Yeah, well," Scott shrugs, "I figured you and Stiles needed to talk without me around."

"So you lied to me," I state flatly with narrowing eyes.

"Maybe?" Scott replies uncertainly while shrinking down in the passenger's seat.

"Aw Scotty," I coo while hooking my right arm around his neck to bring him into a rough noogie. "You're so thoughtful! I didn't even know you _knew_ how to lie!"

"Yeah, well," Scott begins with a teasing smile while easily freeing himself from my grip, "I learned from the best."

XXXXXXXX

I was freezing. My nose was numb, toes stiff, and while it hadn't snowed today the skies were ominously overcast. As I stared uninterestedly out to the boys' lacrosse practice, which my twin was acting strangely throughout and tackling random players without reason (are you even _allowed_ to tackle in lacrosse?), I couldn't help but feel guilty for shivering against mild gusts of wind when Lydia was out there somewhere completely bare without any shelter nor comfort. What right did I have to complain when she was out there, all alone, freezing to death or worse; already dead?

I shake my head to clear the preposterous thought. No, this is Lydia for Christ's sake; she _can't _be dead!

The sight of Sheriff Stilinski strutting onto the field catches my attention; making my brow rise when I overhear him as Coach Finstock for Isaac Lahey.

I know Isaac; he's in my Bio class and is the only other sophomore in my Algebra class. What would the police want with someone like him? Not to sound mean but Isaac is… quiet. Reserved, skittish, and shy were all words that could describe him as well. He'd always reminded me a lot of Erica, except instead of being afraid of his own shadow like my blonde friend the boy seemed afraid of the world; as if he was sure one toe out of line would cause everything to cave in on itself. So what could he have possibly done that the police would involve themselves in? Some street art? Five-finger discount? No, Sheriff Stilinski wouldn't personally involve himself in petty crime like that. Maybe there was a grave robbery at the cemetery Isaac's father oversees and they suspected Isaac? That's ridiculous though; Isaac just didn't have the personality to disturb the dead to steal their personal affects. Damn, sometimes I wish I had Scott's doglike hearing abilities. They sure would come in handy.

_Pop!_

I let out a surprised gasp and grab my now throbbing shoulder while looking slack-jawed away from the sheriff and Isaac and back into the field. My eyes narrow on my brother, whose lacrosse stick is posed in a way that tells me he had been the one to peg me with the ball.

"What the hell?" I hiss while rushing down the bleacher's stairs. I come to a stop when I reach Scott and Stiles and suddenly grab the lacrosse stick from my twin's hand and hit him with the hilt in the gut as hard as I can. "You jerk-"

"Shh!" Scott interrupts while clamping a hand over my mouth. "I'm trying to listen," he whispers while staring intensely at the teenage boy and Stiles' father.

"What's he saying?" Stiles questions with uncontrollable curiosity.

"That…" my twin's eyes narrow in concentration, "the police found Isaac's father's dead body in an alley way and-" my brow skyrockets and I let out a muffled noise of surprise, "they're bringing him in for questioning."

I push Scott's arm away with all of my might so the lower half of my face is freed once more. "Isaac's father was murdered?" I gasp with wide eyes while looking towards the pale boy Sheriff Stilinski is having his deputy escort towards the parking lot. "Oh my god, I should go say something- give my condolences- or maybe-"

"Whoa," Stiles interrupts; catching my attention and causing my eyes to snap up towards his. "There's no way you're going anywhere _near_ that guy."

"And why the hell not?" I snap; thinking he's just trying to set more boundaries like he did last night.

"He's a werewolf, Vanessa," Scott cuts in; defusing the building tension between me and Stiles and catching me by surprise.

"_What_?" I squawk with wide eyes. "Since when?"

"I don't know exactly," Scott answers. "But he's new; I can smell it on him. Derek changed him recently-"

"Oh my god," I gasp. "Last night when I called Derek he said-"

"Wait, what?" Stiles interrupts. "You called _Derek_? Why the hell would you call Derek?"

"To ask for his help," I reply. "I wanted him to help find Lydia but-"

"We can find Lydia on our own," Scott snaps; immediately opposed to all things Derek Hale.

"_Obviously_," I sneer before waving my hands in dismissal. "Anyway, that doesn't matter. The point is, he said no and when I asked why he said he was, quote, _in the middle of something_." The boys look blankly down to me for a moment and I roll my eyes in exasperation. "Don't you get it? He changed Isaac last night! Which means-"

"Which means he's working on building a pack," Stiles finishes; to which I nod enthusiastically in agreement at.

"Exactly! But why?"

"Because he wants power," Scott answers. "Just like Peter."

"Scott-" I begin pleadingly only to be cut off.

"No! Don't you get it, Vanessa? He's just like Peter. All he wants is to get stronger!"

"But he can't do that with only one pack member," I say nervously while toying with the ends of my denim coat.

"We have to stop him," Stiles says firmly with a determined furrow of his brow.

"We have to find Lydia first," I respond. "Tomorrows the full moon, right? We still don't know whether or not she's a werewolf."

"That's if she's still alive," Scott blurts insensitively before apologizing at seeing the contorted and fallen expression on my face. "Oh crap, Nessa-"

The sound of Coach Finstock's whistle drowns out whatever it is my brother has to say and I, as well as everyone else on the field, turn to look at the mad man with a wince.

"All lacrosse team members are to hit the showers and dress warm; there's a mandatory search party for Lydia Martin and-!"

"But coach," Jackson interrupts only to be interrupted himself.

"No buts!" Finstock roars while pointing towards the locker room. "Now get in there and break into groups! I want you all out in five minutes!"

"Coach," I call out while jogging over to said man. "Can I help?" I ask. "Please?"

"As long as the athletic department still gets the reward money."

Oh, so _that's_ why he suddenly wants to help. Two can play at that game.

"That's fine by me," I begin, and at his smile I hold up a single finger to silence whatever it is the economics teacher is about to say, "on one condition."

"I don't negotiate-"

"Stiles Stilinski is in next time you need a substitution," I cut in sternly while folding my arms over my chest for the added effect. "We both know he deserves it, anyway."

"But Greenberg-"

"Ten grand, Coach. Think of all the new equipment-"

"Deal."

Victory.

XXXXXXXX

I couldn't believe my twin. I could not _believe _my twin! He was skipping out on the search party to hide in the bushes and watch Allison watch her psychotic aunt get buried. They wouldn't even see each other! And he'd probably get caught! But of course, y'know like all other times, Allison Argent was put before real problems. Like Lydia. Lydia was a real problem. Not only that but she was _in_ a real problem! And, of course, Stiles was roped in on going to the funereal with Scott because that's what Scott does; he ropes people into his Allison Expeditions and ruins the lives of others because _why the hell not_?

Okay, maybe I'm being melodramatic, but _come on_! Fine though, that's completely fine. Their little cemetery rendezvous had nothing to do with me or my plans. I'd still be going to search for Lydia, and with much better company. Danny.

Well, there was Jackson too but I could put up with the Jackhole for the greater good. Greater good being finding Lydia which, y'know, Stiles and Scott would not be doing.

Ugh.

"So why didn't you join your boyfriend's group, again?" Danny questions while gentlemanly helping me across a small stream.

Scott and Stiles' cover was that they would be searching the woods for Lydia when in reality they would just be cutting through the woods to spy on Kate Argent's funeral. It was a great plan, sure, other than the fact it wasn't great at all but instead a really sucky thing for them to do.

"Stiles was being misogynistic," I lie easily with a perfected frown.

"What does that even mean?" Jackson questions from my right; making me roll my eyes with irritation.

"With all of that money you have, Jackson," I begin snidely, "you would think you'd be able to afford a dictionary."

"Guys," Danny cuts in; his tone warning.

"Sorry," I sigh, although I don't feel sorry at all. Jackson's been complaining the whole fifteen minutes since we began searching for Lydia and it was seriously grating on my nerves. "I just don't understand why Jackass over here is so reluctant to look for his girlfriend-"

"She is _not _my girlfriend!" Jackson snaps while turning on his heel to glare hatefully down at me.

"Yeah," I agree while coming to a halt, "but in the same way that Stiles isn't my boyfriend. You still care about her, Jackson I know you-"

"You don't know anything!" he interrupts with sudden rage that makes me bristle.

"_Guys_," Danny whines; only to be ignored.

"I know that you chose to save Lydia that night at the dance," I reply heatedly.

"I thought you were dead," Jackson dismisses.

"Oh please!" I laugh incredulously. "Don't give me that bull! Lydia looked just as gruesome, just as blood stained as I did. You saved her because you _love _her! Maybe if you just stopped denying it and got your head of out your-!"

"Guys stop!" Danny shouts while pushing in between Jackson and me.

"I dumped Lydia to make room for some changes in my life," Jackson sneers down to me while ignoring his best friend. "Changes that are _finally_ happening."

My eyes widen and my breath catches at the insinuation. "You don't mean-?"

"That's right," Jackson smirks. "Come tomorrow night I'll be just like your broth-"

"Are you fucking crazy?" I question shrilly while stumbling backwards a few steps. "Is this really _still_ what it's all about to you? Being as strong as Scott? Are you fucking _stupid_?!"

"Stop it!" Danny bellows; taking me and Jackson by surprise and causing crows to flee from their nearby nests. Finally that he has our undivided attention the Latino speaks calmly once more. "It's getting dark," he observes, "and it'll be snowing soon. If Lydia has any chance of making it through this we have to find her tonight, so would you two please just _stop _being selfish and actually _do _something?"

Damn. Who knew Danny had it in him?

XXXXXXXX

"Is that- are those cop cars?" I stutter while squinting out into the horizon littered with trees before us.

We'd been walking for hours now, and although every muscle in my body was screaming in protest I began to quicken my pace. Something was drawing me out towards the road just a few yards from where me, Jackson, and Danny stood, but then over that and to the other side of Beacon Hills Preserve. It was my sixth sense. I could feel it screaming at me to push on; go faster, she's close! Faster! Run!

"Lydia!" I shout while running blindly into the road. A car I immediately recognize stops just short of hitting me but my frantic steps don't falter. "Lydia!"

"Vanessa?" Sheriff Stilinski questions as I sprint past him, and overturned ambulance, and plethora of police officers.

She's close; I can feel it in my bones! My name becomes a chorus harmonized by the boys I left behind, Stiles who stumbles out of the Jeep that just nearly crushed me, and Beacon Hills' sheriff but I just run on. She's close!

And just before I enter the preserve once more a translucent body with strawberry blonde hair and wide, green eyes steps out suddenly onto the road; making me crash into it before bouncing back.

I can vaguely hear the surprised exclamations of the men and few woman behind me at the sight of a very disheveled and nude Lydia Martin but the only thing my mind can focus on is that Lydia's alive. She is alive and (relatively) well and I found her.

"Oh my god," I breath while pulling my coat off of my shoulders so I can drape it over hers. "Thank god," I sigh while bringing my best friend into the fiercest hug I can imagine.

"V-Vanessa?" Lydia stutters breathlessly through her chattering teeth.

"I'm here," I coo as a team of paramedics rush over to me and her. "I'm right here."

**Author's Note!**

**Ta-Da! Hope you enjoyed this chapter; another one will be up soon enough. **

**Audrey- Yes, I didn't update for a few days because I've been extremely sick with my chronic intestinal illness flare-up, but hopefully I'll return to decent health soon. I'm glad you liked last chapter and hope you like this one!**


	42. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

In the morning I was met once more with the strange feeling of waking up exhausted. Last night I had rode with Lydia in the back of her ambulance to the hospital and stayed with Mrs. Martin in the waiting room until her doctor came out and gave us the good news. Lydia had no signs of frostbite nor did she have hypothermia. When asked how that was possible Dr. Kim said Lydia's body, in the cold temperatures it faced, burned extra fat stores; leaving her ten pounds slimmer and without any real medical complications. Losing ten pounds in a matter of 26 hours was "dangerous" in a sense that liposuction is dangerous, and even less than that really. Lydia was fine, a little spooked at first, but fine. It's safe to say it was the best news I'd gotten all year.

But alas, in that ebb and flow way life has, whenever there is good news it is promptly followed by bad, and this latest blow was something much more terrifying than Peter ever was…

The Argents. Or more accurately, the _newly arrived_ Argents. Kate's burial yesterday was akin to a hornet's nest; hunters swarmed like the news reporters and journalists attempting to capture the essence of the murderess' final goodbye. Their reports of solemn family members would be the farthest thing from the truth. The Argents weren't going to lie down and cry over this. No, they were out for revenge and more importantly for blood. Chris and Kate's father, whose word is law to the Argents, severed a lone werewolf in half right before my brother's innocent eyes before declaring the code (we hunt those who hunt us) is null and void.

In other words, the werewolves in Beacon Hills were doomed.

As you can imagine, I sort of freaked out. And by "sort of" I mean I threw nearly all of my brother's belongings into a suitcase and demanded he move in with Dad and Ingrid until Gerard (Allison's grandfather) and his minions leave town. That obviously didn't fly over too well with Scotty, and while that was in no way surprising would you like to know _why_ exactly he was so opposed to my (quite frankly logical if not a bit panicked) idea? Because he "didn't want to leave Allison behind."

Just let that sink in for a moment.

My twin, my baby brother, my only sibling, did not want to get the hell out of Dodge to save his own werewolf ass because he didn't want to give long distance relationships a go. Like… what? _What_? Scott we've come so far… yet apparently not as far as your head is up your girlfriend's ass.

As you can tell, as happy as I am about Lydia's recovery and immaculate health, I'm still a giant squid of anger.

It was another great start to a new school day. Luckily come 5'oclock I would be able to talk to Dr. Franks about my slowly but surely building resentment for Scott and his inability to focus on anything other than Allison. I don't even know if I should be amused or saddened by the fact the foreseeable highlight of my day would be bitching to my therapist about a relationship I'm not even involved in.

"Stop dwelling, Vanessa," I order myself in a whisper while sluggishly sitting up in bed. "Just stop dwelling." And that's good advice, isn't it? I need to focus on my reality, not what I wished had happened. This is today and this is my life and it's the only one I have to live so instead of being a moaning Myrtle I should just trek on.

So that's what I decided to do as I stumbled into my mother and my shared bathroom. I would trek on.

XXXXXXXX

When I walked dejectedly into AP French (after getting my ass handed to me class after class and losing all of my resolve to look on the bright side of things) and my eyes scanned the classroom for an unattended seat both my books and jaw hit the floor with surprise.

"Oh my god!" I hiss while struggling to gather all of my things without looking away from my smirking friends' amused demeanor and waving hand. "Lydia, should you _really_ be in school so soon?" I ask concernedly while joining the seemingly happy blonde.

"The doctors say I'm fine other than a small case of amnesia," Lydia dismisses with a wave of her hand before scandalously leaning in to ask, "But what's going on with you? Word around the school is you and Stilinski are getting pretty serious."

I roll my eyes at the gossip but can't help but smile at Lydia's typical behavior. "Well," I begin happily while falling into the seat beside her, "we _are_ kind of together now."

"Eek!" Lydia squeals while happily clapping her hands together. "Oh my gosh tell me _everything!_"

"As happy as I am to see you well, Lydia," Ms. Bestrode's intimidating baritone booms as she enters room 103, "any catching up you have to do with Ms. McCall has to wait until after class."

And so we waited until lunch time to gossip and giggle and tease, and it was by far the best moment of my new year. After claiming a secluded lunch table (having kicked an easily intimidated group of freshmen off of it) and purchasing our, as always, matching apple/chicken/walnut salads I told her all about what had happened in terms of Stiles and me during the time she was either unconscious or off gallivanting in the woods. To say Lydia was pleased would be an understatement. She claimed to not remember Winter Formal at all (which worked in Scott, Stiles', and my favor in the grand scheme of things) so when I recounted the dance and kiss and then multiple kisses after we were both blushing, giggling, happy messes enjoying a girl's lunch and, sweet, _sweet _ normalcy.

And it was perfect. As strange as it sounds and as horrible as I feel for lying to Lydia about what happened to us the night of the dance something about being reunited with my best friend felt _good_. Lydia was, as she had recently come to be, the link to my life before Scott's bite; the normal one where my biggest problem was MAC's latest lipstick selling out before I had the chance to buy it. So I soaked in that normalcy for as long as I could, but it (like all things) ended too soon and I was left thinking how lunch should be allotted more time than the 47 minutes individual classes last.

Still though, as Lydia and I joined Stiles and began to walk the familiar route to Biology class (with Stiles' hand sneakily but intentionally brushing against my own) I couldn't bring myself to feel cheated. With the foreboding sense tonight's full moon was bringing; those 47 minutes were more than I had hoped for.

XXXXXXXX

"Jackson Whittemore to the principal's office," a posh and vaguely familiar voice requested over Beacon Hills High's loudspeaker. "Jackson Whittemore to the principal's office."

I could only watch in mild amusement as Stiles tossed a crumpled up piece of paper at the back of Mr. Harrison's head as an obvious ploy to follow Jackson to the main office. It not only worked but due to dual blame Scotty got to go along too.

I didn't get why they were so curious as to what Jackass did to get in trouble, but I guessed they just wanted to keep a close eye on the new werewolf in town. Or at least _one_ of the new werewolves in town.

As I huff and try to block out Mr. Harris' monotonous tone my mind goes to the werewolf problem at hand. Derek was without a doubt building a pack, but I couldn't help but wonder _why_. Why would he ruin Isaac and Jackson's lives; _risk_ their lives? And I'm not just talking about the 50% chance of dying during transition- the Argents have declared _war_. It's unsafe in Beacon Hills; for Scott, for Isaac, for Jackson, and even for Derek. It didn't seem right to me; didn't seem _fair_ to me. And what are Jackson and Isaac to Derek? His foot soldiers? Will he send them out to fight when they have even less experience than my (arguably hopeless) brother? The Argents would eat the boys alive; I'm surprised they haven't already come for my brother. Jackson may think he knew what the bite meant but he had no idea what he was volunteering to do, and poor Isaac he doesn't have a _clue_ what comes with being a werewolf. Derek may have warned him but he couldn't possible fathom the reality of the danger he's in until Gerard has a crossbow aimed between his eyes.

And why was Derek targeting teenagers? Did he think it would sway Scott's decision, or was there a biological reason? Did teens react better to the bite then adults? (Turning children were out of the question in my mind; not even an option.) I had all of these questions and worries but with no answers or comforts. It was driving me insane!

By the time the bell rang I had made my decision; somehow I would talk to Derek and ask everything I needed to know. Knowledge would be power at the moment, and I didn't like to go into potentially dangerous situations blind. Not only that but I had to start training; getting _physically _stronger. I would have to start out slow; I'm still not fully recovered from Winter Formal, but the helplessness I felt fueled my determination. Maybe I couldn't take down werewolves but, if it came down to it, I would get involved in this war.

I wouldn't let anything happen to the people I love. I would fight this time, and I would win. _We_ would win. If we could get through lycanthropy and Peter and romantic drama we could get through this. We just have to do it together…

And that would be hard.

**Author's Note!**

**This chapter was very short but it's been three days since I updated and I wanted to put something out there.**

**I'm very, very sick guys. I don't want to get into much detail but as of right now I'm not well and being healthy again won't be happening soon. I'm not dying or anything (I don't think) but I'm very weak and it's hard to focus on writing lengthy chapters (or focus on anything, really).**

**This won't be put on hiatus or anything but I won't be updating every day like I used to. I really hope you understand and don't get frustrated.**

**Thanks to everyone who responded to my last author's note; I'll be replying soon but at this moment I'm just very tired.**

**DFTBA**


	43. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty**

When I heard the news I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't find the situation particularly funny; just absurd. It was truly ridiculous how little luck we had. I was really starting to doubt that whole "luck of the Irish" saying; mine and Scott's last name is McCall and, judging by recent events, we're anything _but _lucky.

My laughter was evidently concerning Scott and Stiles though; I could tell by their confused and slightly scared shared look that my hysterics were thoroughly creeping them out.

"Vanessa," my twin began slowly while raising a brow in questioning, "did you finally crack or what?"

"I'm sorry," I gasp while wiping a tear of mirth from my eye. "I shouldn't be laughing but _c'mon!_ Gerard's our _principal_!" I burst into another fit of giggles and pushed my face into my hands in attempt to muffle my inappropriate amusement.

"Still not seeing the humor in this," Stiles began in a skeptic tone. "Maybe she really has cracked."

I roll my eyes and turn back to my locker. I needed to exchange books but I'd been distracted by the boys' news of Gerard's academic leadership. "I'm not _crazy,_" I protest while fighting the laughter bubbling in my chest to stay down, "just… incredulous. I mean, how can our lives get any-?"

"_Nonononono_!" Scott interrupts while slapping a hand firmly over my mouth; silencing my effectively. "Don't jinx it!"

I bite harshly on the tender skin covering the lower half of my face and roll my eyes when my brother lets out a yelp of pain while retracting his hand jerkily. "Hush, boy," I order while depositing my Chem binder for Econ. "Good doggie," I condescend with a simpering smile while turning back to look at my brother and friend.

"If you two are done now," Stiles interrupts while glancing in between me and my twin; unimpressed by our bickering.

"Proceed," I nod with an irritated roll of my eyes.

"We need to find a way to get Isaac out of that jail cell," Stiles announces in a hushed tone.

"Why are they even holding him?" I ask in confusion while unhappily exchanging my Global 10 binder for the mountain of homework waiting at the top of my shelf. "I mean, he's just a kid."

"It turns out his dad was abusing him," Stiles begins with a frown.

"Motive," I recognize with a nod of understanding. "Right. Well, do you think it really was Isaac?"

"Derek doesn't," Scott pipes up from my left; making me turn to look up at him in surprise.

"When did _you _speak to Derek?" I question with a raised brow while trying to ignore the implications of my twin's words. If Isaac hadn't done it, then who (or what) _did_?

"He wants me to meet him at Isaac's house," Scott informs us; dodging my question completely.

"Uh, why?" Stiles asks skeptically while raising a left brow in questioning.

"Dunno," Scott shrugs.

"Well, are you going?" I ask.

The bell signaling the beginning of block 9 rings before my twin can answer.

XXXXXXXX

"Allison!" I call out while weaving through the sea of rambunctious (and annoyingly ignorant) teenagers to get to said girl.

The pretty Argent looks away from her locker and sends me a warm smile as I draw near. "Hey Vanessa," she greets, "what's up?"

"I need to talk to you," I begin while glancing around to make sure no one was around and eavesdropping. "Like, _privately_," I add while giving her a pointed look.

"Oh!" Allison exclaims while slipping into her muted colored pea coat. "Yeah, sure! Do you want to come over or-?"

"Yeah," I nod with a relieved smile. "That'd be great, actually. Stiles has detention and Scott- well, I'll tell you during the ride."

Allison bobs her head in agreement while slipping a warm hat over her ebony curls. "We should get going, then," she prompts while nodding towards the exit door.

XXXXXXXX

"So," I begin somewhat uncertainly as Allison's surprisingly well-kept car purrs to life; blasting much needed heat towards my flushed face and cold toes, "I wanted to talk to you about- well I don't know how to word this exactly- uhm, uh-"

"Just spit it out, Nessa," Allison encourages with a soothing smile that steels my nerves.

"Right," I nod while squaring my shoulders. "Okay. I want you to train me."

"_What_?" she yelps while slamming hard on the brakes; sending us jerking forwards. Thank God for seatbelts.

"Not to be like, a hunter or anything," I backtrack; having lost my nerve at her alarmed expression and exclamation. "Just… I need to get stronger, Allison. I can't keep relying on Scott and Stiles to save me. I-"

"I get it," Allison interrupts while driving smoothly once more. "I went to my aunt looking for the same thing… power."

"Allison-" I begin in a sympathetic tone while placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I'll help you," she cuts in. "You have to heal first, though. Scott said your stitches aren't going to be taken out until next week but once that heals we'll… figure things out."

"Thank you," I say as guilt begins to bubble in my chest. "I know I haven't always been the nicest to you Allison, but-"

"We both want what's best for Scott," she says while a look of fierce determination takes over her pretty features. "I know what it's like to feel weak. I'll teach you everything I know, and-"

"I'm not an archer or anything," I interrupt. "And I'm kind of hopeless when it comes to physical activity."

"There are other kinds of weapons, Vanessa," Allison replies while making a right turn onto her block. "Ones I'm sure you can handle. We'll figure it out."

"I can see why Scott fights so hard for you," I say after a beat of silence while inspecting the Argent critically. "You're a good person, Allison. I'm glad you're on our side."

The smile I got in response was nearly blinding.

XXXXXXXX

"I'm home!" Allison announces as we enter the lavish Argent pad.

"Allison!" and elderly voice greets; catching my attention and making me turn to what appeared to be a study. "Oh, I didn't know you were bringing a friend over," a man that vaguely resembles Father Mathews (although all old men do, really) smiles friendlily while extending a wrinkled hand in greetings. "I'm Gerard; Allison's grandfather."

I plaster a fake smile on my face; one even his calculating eyes can't detect. "Vanessa McCall," I introduce while shaking his hand firmly; ignoring the cold feeling that washes over me at his touch. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"McCall, you say?" Gerard echoes while inspecting me closely. "Any relation to Scott McCall?"

"He's my twin," I answer.

"Interesting," Gerard nods.

"Not really," Allison cuts in while grabbing my hand and leading me off towards a nearby staircase. "We have an English project to work on," she tells Gerard while ushering me up the stairs.

"Have fun!" the old man calls just before Allison and I enter her bedroom; shutting the door firmly behind us.

XXXXXXXX

"Hey, I'm getting kind of hungry," Allison announces while getting to her feet. "Do you want something-?"

"Yes," I answer immediately while looking up from the book of her family's history she had leant me.

The pale girl chuckles at my eager response and head over to her bedroom door. "Cookies and milk sound good?" she offers once in the hall.

"Sounds _great_," I correct while looking back down to the scrawled text once more. "Thanks."

After discussing my training (which wouldn't be too extensive being as Allison only knew what Kate had taught her- Gerard and Chris didn't think she was emotionally ready to be a hunter yet) and worrying myself sick over the fact Stiles should have been let out of detention over an hour ago but was _still_ not answering his cell Allison gave me the book depicting an overview of the Argent family's history; the very same book Kate had given her not too long ago. It was a good attempt at distracting me but, as I was beginning to find out, when it came to Stiles he would always be on my mind; one way or the other.

When Allison returned a few minutes later with no snack and a pinched expression, I was up on my feet and over to her in concern.

"What?" I question. "What's wrong?"

"Gerard's sending someone over to the station," Allison informs me grimly, "they're going to kill Isaac."

"_What?_" I yelp before diving onto her bed and patting around for my phone. "Oh my god," I panic while bringing the ringing phone to my ear. "Pick up, pick up, pick _up_!" I urge while watching Allison pull her crossbow out from underneath her bed.

"Who are you calling?" my brother's girlfriend asks while packing her assault weapon into a pack.

"Stiles!" I exclaim; answering both Allison's question and greeting the boy who _finally_ answered his phone.

"Sorry," the sheriff's son apologizes over the phone, "Harrison _just_ let me out of detention. Literally. I just got my phone ba- where are you, anyway?"

"I'm at Allison's," I answer while shrugging into my coat. "Listen, hunters are headed over to the station. They're going to kill Isaac."

"But he hasn't done anything!" Stiles exclaims, and I hear the Jeep's door slam shut loudly.

"It doesn't matter," I say. "They're out for blood."

"We have to stop them!"

"I know," I reply.

"I'm headed to the station now," Stiles informs me as the truck roars to life, "there's a key in my dad's office I can use to break him out."

"You can't go alone," I insist.

"What's he doing?" Allison questions.

"I'll call you," Stiles responds before my phone beeps; signaling the end of our call.

"He's going to the station," I tell the youngest Argent in a pitched tone. "Allison, Isaac's new; this is first full moon. If Stiles goes anywhere near him without protection or back up-"

"We'll get Scott," Allison interrupts while grabbing her car keys up from her desk.

"Just drop me off," I deny with a frantic shake of my head. "The station is closer anyway."

"Vanessa-"

"I'm not letting him go in alone!" I announce firmly. "Just drop me off and then get Scott; he's at the Lahey's."

"What's he doing there?" Allison questions in surprise.

"I don't know," I answer.

She slings her packed bag over her shoulder before reluctantly giving a nod of acceptance. "Okay, fine. Just _be careful_."

XXXXXXXX

"What are you doing?" I hiss as Allison and I exit her car. "I thought you were going to get Scott?"

"I am," she answers while unsheathing her high-tech bow and arrow. "I'm just buying time."

"What-?" before the word is fully out the arrow Allison just released imbeds itself inside of the disguised hunter's leg; making him stumble back against his car and groan in pain. By the time I've looked away from the now injured man both Allison and her car are already gone.

Oh I am _so_ team Scallison again.

XXXXXXXX

When the familiar sound of squealing breaks reached my ears I stepped out of the alley way's shadows and rushed towards the blue vehicle. "Stiles!" I hiss while knocking sharply on the driver's side door; making said boy jump at my sudden presence.

"Vanessa?" the sheriff's son questions while rolling down one of the Jeep's windows. "What the hell are you _doing_ here?"

"What am _I _doing here?" I echo before giving Derek Hale a pointed look; wary and confused as to how he got involved. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"Isaac is _my_ Beta," Derek snaps gruffly while narrowing his eyes on me. "You have no business here. Go home."

"And you have no business turning people into werewolves all willy-nilly!" I whisper shout while mustering up the meanest glare I could. "Yet here we are!"

"Shh!" Stiles snaps. "Both of you!"

"Fine," I huff while crossing my arms in irritation while looking to Stiles expectantly. "What's your plan?"

"The keys to every cell are in a password protected lock box in my dad's office," the sheriff's son begins. "I know the code but getting past the front desk isn't gonna be easy."

The three of us peer into the police department before Stiles and I give Derek our full attention. "I'll distract her," the alpha volunteers sternly; leaving no room for argument.

"Fine by-" I begin, only for Stiles to interrupt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the teen protests while grabbing Derek's upper arm; halting his movements to exit the vehicle. "There's no _way_ you're going in there." The pointed and intimidating look Derek gives Stiles' outstretched appendage even makes _me_ nervous. "Taking my hand off!" Stiles yelps while snapping his arm back to his side.

"He has a point," I say while eyeing Derek meaningfully. "I mean, it was you in that cell not too long ago."

"I was exonerated," the alpha replies plainly with narrowed eyes.

"Still a person of interest," Stiles chimes in.

"An _innocent _person of interest," Derek responds; making me snort in amusement.

"You?" I question incredulously. "_Innocent_? Ha! Yeah right."

"I'll _distract _her," the alpha repeats.

"Oh yeah?" Stiles prompts. "And how are you going to do that? By punching her in the face?"

"By talking to her," Derek responds with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

"Okay, fine," Stiles relents while angling his body to face Derek. "Give me an example; what are you going to open with?"

"Oh for heaven's sake," I sigh; catching the boys' attention. "Stiles, he's gorgeous, he doesn't _have _to say anything," I announce with a roll of my eyes before training them on Derek. "Smile, be charming, do whatever you have to. We're wasting time out here; let's _go_!"

XXXXXXXX

"So," Stiles begins in a forced conversational tone once we enter the sheriff's office, "you think Derek's hot, huh?"

I roll my eyes and take a seat atop Mr. Stilinski's desk; careful not to send any of his papers askew. "I have eyes, Stiles," I reply diplomatically before tacking on, "don't be jealous."

"Jealous?" Stiles guffaws while dialing an unknown code into his father's lockbox. "_Please_, I'm not jealous."

I could see through the obvious lie, so in an attempt to reassure him I smile and say, "Good. You have no reason to be, anyway."

"Why?" Stiles questions while turning to me and pausing his attempted lock-in.

Feeling bold I lean forward and kiss him soundly on the lips. "Now get those keys," I order while leaning back and nodding towards the safe.

"Yes ma'am," Stiles grins with light eyes.

**Author's Note!**

**Ta-da; a long chapter for once (word count is over 2,460; small victories)!**

**Review Replies:**

**Veronica- Thank you for the kind words! I'm thankful for the reviews I do get although I **_**do**_** wish I heard more from my readers. Stiles' and Vanessa's relationship isn't the main focus of this story, and I'm glad you both recognize and enjoy that. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Junebug3668- Thanks for wishing me well, unfortunately my illness can't be cured with excess sleep. I'm working on it though, and feeling stronger day by day. I'm glad you like the way I'm portraying Lydia in this story, and I hope you enjoy the future chapters of State Of Grace!**

**Health Update: I'm getting… better-ish. This flare up is pretty bad, albeit not the worst I've had. Unfortunately though on top of my chronic illness I'm being assaulted by a persistent sinus infection. Nevertheless, SOG will be update bi-weekly!**

**Season Three Update: Although I haven't made a concrete decision I'm leaning towards going completely AU! I have a ton of ideas for what I would do; ones I think you'll all really enoy.**

**Keep an eye out for chapter 41!**

**DFTBA!**


	44. Chapter 41

**Chapter Forty-One**

"It's empty," Stiles announces dumbly as we peer into the, sure enough, empty safe before us.

"I can see that," I sigh while raising a hand to my forehead; feeling an ache coming on. "Who else has the combination?" I question concernedly.

"No one," Stiles replies confidently before his certainty falters. "At least I don't think-"

The sound of clanging keys and a pained grunt interrupts his words; catching our attention and making us rush out of the sheriff's office and into the hall.

"Where did that come from?" I ask in a trembling voice, although I already know the answer.

Stiles clasps my left hand in his right in a comforting manner. "Stay behind me," he orders as we eye the trail of blood leading towards the holding cells.

We begin to take hesitant steps towards an undoubtedly feral Isaac and, presumably, the Argent Allison had shot earlier as I silently wonder where the hell Derek is. Surely he could hear how loud my heart was pounding? Surely he could smell the Argent's blood? Didn't he say that Isaac was his pack, therefore his responsibility? Where the hell was the new alpha now? My frantic questions made me feel weak as Stiles and I neared the source of sound. When did I allow myself to become a damsel in distress? Before I can get too self-reflective though, Stiles opens the cracked door leading into the holding area; revealing the injured Argent frantically jamming random keys into the cell's (who I could see was holding Isaac) lock.

"Hey!" Stiles snaps while dropping my hand and rushing to the hurt man; desperate to keep a transformed Isaac behind bars. Unfortunately the disguised Argent found the key to Isaac's lock (that sounds oddly romantic) just before Stiles reached him. Stiles tried to tackle the hunter before he could twist the key; effectively releasing Isaac from his holding cell, but unfortunately the man succeeded in unlocking the new werewolf's restraints.

As Stiles and the man fell to the floor I immediately crossed the room and slammed my body against Isaac's holding cell's door. As my shaking hands fumble around the key I can't twist back in place due to Isaac's battering the door I'm desperately trying to keep close I shout out for the only person I think can help in this situation.

"Derek!" I shrill while eyeing Stiles' and the Argent's violent struggle.

Dammit where _was _he?

I can't hold back Isaac's strength, and within seconds the holding cell's door is being thrust open; sending me sprawled out on the hard tile floor with an "oof!"

I watched with wide, stunned eyes as Isaac grabbed the hunter forcefully off of Stiles and rammed his body into the wall above Stiles. The Argent pulled a syringe from his pocket and attempted to stick the needle into Isaac's neck, but Isaac viciously slammed the man into the wall once more; knocking the hunter out cold. I nearly winced in sympathy as I pushed my upper body into a seated position before I remembered the asshat deserved it. He _is_ an Argent, after all.

Unfortunately with one enemy down Isaac turned his golden eyes down onto Stiles, who was still catching his breath. With fangs bared Isaac began to bend forward to seize Stiles in a similar way he did to the Argent, and my veins ran cold with fear.

"No!" I exclaim sternly while reaching out to swipe at Isaac's legs.

He'd been caught off guard; it was the only reason why I managed to get his feet out from under him. Isaac's rage-ridden form hit the floor the same way mine did just moments earlier before he angled his body to growl terrifyingly up at me. There was pure bloodlust in his amber eyes; it didn't matter that I hadn't really don't him any harm. What mattered was that I was there and he was there and he wanted to hurt somebody…and _I_ am a somebody.

The sound of glass breaking alerted everyone of Derek's presence; he'd stomped dramatically on the syringe the Argent had been trying to stab Isaac with, and the nearly putrid floral scent that infiltrated my nostrils informed me that it had been liquefied Wolfsbane the hunter had been planning on poisoning Isaac with.

Speaking of, the new werewolf let out a mighty growl and he charged at the leader of his pack blindly; just ready to spill blood and do it quickly. Before as he was so much as fully on his feet, however, Derek's eyes lit crimson and he let out the loudest roar I had ever heard. The sound injected fear into even my heart, and it sent Isaac scurrying into the corner; whimpering like an injured pup.

"How did you do that?" Stiles asked Derek; his boyish voice a mixture of awe and nerves.

"I'm the alpha," Derek replied with an eerie smirk before gruffly lifting Isaac up by the collar of his jacket and leading him from the room. I shuffled quickly over to Stiles, who was wincing as he pushed his upper body up from the floor. He'd obviously been hurt in the admittedly quick but rough fight with the werewolf hunter.

"Are you okay?" I question softly while lying a hesitate hand on his right shoulder as he leant back against the wall for support.

"Fine," Stiles answers with an easy grin. "C'mon, we should get out of here before-"

"What the hell?" the booming voice of Sheriff Stilinski suddenly sounded from the holding area's doorway. He and two deputies eyed the scene before them with critical and accusing eyes; making me shrink away from their piercing gazes.

"Uh," Stiles fumbled before nodding towards the unconscious man beside us, "he did it."

Yeah, that went over well.

XXXXXXXXX

"What do you mean you don't know what it was?" I sigh exasperatedly while hugging my pillow to my chest; in need of comfort in all of this confusion.

Apparently while Stiles and I were laying out an elaborate lie for the Beacon Hills Police Force my twin and Allison were facing an unknown creature with a tail and the ability to walk on walls.

Great, that's just what we needed; _more _supernatural creatures trying to kill us. Goddamn, why can't this night just be over already?

"I mean, _I don't know what it was_," Scott snaps; frustrated with me and this whole situation.

Still, as much as I understood his clipped tone I still rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Fine," I snapped back while pushing my legs underneath my bed sheets. "Then we'll just figure it out tomorrow, okay? I'm tired, you're tired, we're cranky, so get your sorry wolf ass out of here-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Scott interrupts while getting to his feet. "Goodnight!" he calls out from over his shoulder before closing my bedroom door soundly behind him.

"What's so good about it?" I grumble while jerking my body down into a comfortable position.

Stiles had been grounded for the weekend and sent straight home once his father was done interrogating us; meaning no matter how hard I pouted up at the sheriff he wasn't allowed to spend the night. It totally sucked, and I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something without Stiles' arm draped over my stomach or without the sound of his even breathing.

Yeah, not a "good"night at all.

XXXXXXXXX

"We'll figure things out tomorrow" turned into "I give up, we have too little information and Google is being useless", and as a result you can conclude that weekend sucked some major ass. Well, that's not entirely true. Erica and I hung out nearly all day Sunday at Barnes and Noble; exchanging book recommendations and gossip. It was a nice reprieve from the excitement of my life, and we both promised to get together again soon. As much as I liked my sporadic hang-outs with the quiet blonde they were something I wanted to do more often.

Anyway, Scott and I were completely at a loss as to what this new creature was, and it seemed like we were going to stay that way for a while. I had suggested we talk to Derek about it, but the unimpressed expression on my twin's face at the musing quickly shut down that idea. For now, that is.

"Stiles is here," Scott announces suddenly while leaning casually against my bedroom doorway; making me jump with fright at his sudden appearance.

I throw a menacing glare over my shoulder before peering out of the window to my left down towards our driveway. "No he-" my denial dies in my throat when, sure enough, Stiles' Jeep turns down our block.

"I can hear that thing from a mile away," Scott says with a roll of his eyes.

"Useful," I comment with forced disinterest. In reality I was itching to see Stiles; talk to him, just _be_ with him.

The need for closeness was starting to scare me, quite honestly, but being with Stiles just made everything… easier. And in two days I managed to miss him more than I thought was possible. I mean, I was okay with having a few days to myself but to not even be able to _text_ Stiles was a change. A change that I really, really didn't like.

"I'll get your bag," Scott sighs while nodding out into the hallway, "just no making out when I'm in the car. It's gross."

"Your face is gross," I quip before rushing happily past my shoulder; throwing a, "Thanks Scotty!" over my shoulder before grabbing my coat and running happily out towards my… something.

Yeah, Stiles was my Something.

XXXXXXXXX

Dr. Hemple hated me. That was the only conclusion that could be drawn from the fact that he'd faxed the school; clearing me for gym class. I was perfectly content watching everyone play from the sidelines; happy to not participate in dodge ball or football or basketball, but now I would actually have to… _do things_. And Hemple just had to do it on rock-climbing day, didn't he? That man _knows _I have a fear of heights; he's treated enough of my injuries caused by said fear on numerous occasions! Ugh; the nerve!

"Vanessa," Allison singsongs from my right pulling me out of my deep, frustrated thoughts, "you're grumbling."

"I don't _grumble_," I snap with a furrowed brow while pulling my gym uniform over my head. "I mutter adorably," I then correct with a cheeky and forced smile, "get it right."

"Mhm," the brunet hums disbelievingly while linking an arm through my own. "You're just pouting about having to play today."

"But I _hate_ heights!" I whine childishly; not at all bothered by the scene I'm causing.

Allison rolls her hazel eyes good-naturedly. "Think of it as a part of your training," she begins in a hushed voice. "Character building."

"Character building," I echo with an unattractive snort as we exit the girl's locker room. "Character building my _ass_."

"Gather around!" Coach Finstock barked; catching everyone's attention with his overwhelming volume.

Allison and I gravitated over to the growing group stationed at the foot of the intimidating rock wall and I swallowed nervously while looking up its daunting height.

Damn Dr. Hemple.

"You'll be going up in teams of two!" Finstock announces in his usual shout. "First up is Whittemore and McCall!"

"Which one, Coach?" Scott questions with an upwards quirk of his brow.

My breath catches and I silently hope it's him.

"Vanessa!"

Fuck.

"Good luck," Erica whispers comfortingly as I pass her. We share a mutual hatred and fear of all things that put more than three feet of distance between your feet and the ground, and I smile shakily at her before stepping onto the mat placed at the bottom of the rock wall.

Jackson and I step into our harnesses in tense silence. We hadn't spoken since the day Lydia was found, but with Friday being the full moon I was dying to know what had happened. I mean, obviously since he was bitten he'd transformed, but how did he control the urge? From the lack of murders or assaults Jackson obviously hadn't gone out on some blood-thirsty killing spree. So how did he control it? Did he take a page out of the TVD book and chain himself up? I wouldn't be surprised if he had some weird secret second basement like the Lockwood's; with a house like Jackson's I'm sure he had a room for everything.

I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me halfway up the rock wall. It was mostly to distract myself from the fact that I was progressively defying gravity more and more; taunting it and daring it to make me slip and fall. Nothing serious would happen (besides from a monumental blow to my pride) but I was so terrified of falling I would do anything to prevent it from happening.

That was much more symbolic than I intended.

"So," I begin conversationally while reaching high for a flat looking grip, "how did Friday go?"

I glanced at Jackson's profile out of the corner of my eye for a moment to see his jaw tick with anger. "It didn't," he snaps through gritted teeth; nearly making me lose my footing in surprise.

"What?" I yelp before controlling my volume and angling my head slightly closer to Jackson's. "You didn't shift?" I whisper-shout in disbelief.

"No," Jackson growls as we reach the top of the rock wall. While I tap my bell gently in victory Jackson smacks his with apparent anger before we begin our descent.

"Oh," I begin meekly. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," he lacrosse player snorts.

"I'm not sorry that you're not a werewolf," I snap with a roll of my eyes, "I'm sorry that you were disappointed."

"Whatever," Jackson scoffs before our feet touch down on the mat.

Before I can respond he's already dropping his harness to the floor and stalking off to his usual clique.

Well fuck you too, Jackass.

"What the hell was that?" Stiles hisses as I rejoin him, Scott, and Allison.

"Later," I promise with a defeated sigh before locking eyes with my brother. He'd obviously heard Jackson and my conversation, but I couldn't get a read on what he thought of it.

Next up was Scott and Allison, and I rolled my eyes when I saw him obviously lagging behind to check out his girlfriend's (admittedly amazing) ass. Pig. Then came Erica, who I was glad to see was paired with Stiles. I gave my blonde friend and encouraging smile and said, "It's really not so bad when you're up there. Besides, Stiles will be there with you. Just talk to him about Clueless- he loves that movie."

"I do not!" Stiles had protested in a pitched voice as he shot me daggers.

Erica had giggled at her antics and I was pleased that my attempt at distractive her worked. The last thing I wanted was for her to have a panic attack, which could very likely turn into a seizer. You see, Erica is an epileptic, and although she's prescribed medication that suppresses the seizers I had a very bad feeling as she and Stiles stepped into their harnesses.

My fear was well founded. Three-quarters of the way up the climb Erica began to hyperventilate before promptly freezing in place. Stiles stopped as well, only he did it to speak to Erica and attempt to calm her down. What I'm sure were his soothing words didn't help, though. Instead Erica began to whimper and her body trembled with unadulterated fear. I pushed my way from the back of the class to the front before standing up onto the mat.

"Just kick off!" I called up to my terrified friend as my heart clenched with worry.

"What is it- is it vertigo?" Coach Finstock questioned stupidly while looking up to Erica with more curiosity than concern.

"Vertigo's a dysfunction of the vestibule system of the inner ear," Lydia announced smartly from her spot beside the gym teacher. "_She_'s just freaking out."

"Kick off, Erica!" I order while repressing the urge to kick Lydia's pretty little head off of her shoulders.

Thankfully the blonde listens to my command and within seconds her shaking feet are planted firmly back on the ground. Erica's hazel eyes scan the crowd of students gawking at her trembling frame as her face pales in mortification.

"Are you alright?" Finstock questions as Stiles too comes back onto the mat.

"F-fine," Erica stutters as her gaze lowers to the gym floor. A moment after the word leaves her mouth Erica has already fled back into the locker rooms; the students before her parting like the red sea in avoidance.

I follow after her without hesitation, and thankfully Coach Finstock just lets us go; continuing on with the class with an exclamation of, "You're up, Greenburg!"

**Author's Note!**

**Wow… nine whole days since I last updated. The word "sorry" doesn't even come close to how I'm feeling. I tried to make this chapter a bit longer to make up for the unintentional hiatus, but I know it's kind of an inadequate way of apologizing.**

**I've been super sick and my school forced me to take midterms despite having missed 3 weeks of classes, which stressed me out and made me worse. I'm sorry for giving you guys excuses but at least they're reasonable ones.**

**I'm putting a rush on chapter 42 so expect that in the next day or so. I'll be replying to reviews once I feel up to it. I read all of them, but I'm just too tired/weak to respond right now.**

**I hope you guys understand, and I hope you liked this chapter.**

**DFTBA**


	45. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-Two**

"Poor Erica," Allison sighs empathetically as we change back into our regular clothes. "How was she when you got in here?"

"Shaken," I respond while running my fingers through the tangles in my hair, "but more embarrassed than anything."

"Where did she go, anyway?" Lydia questions while eyeing the girls around us with narrowed eyes.

"'Said she wanted to go to the nurse's office," I shrug disconcertedly.

After consoling Erica for a few minutes my blonde friend changed back into the clothes she wore to school today (although you couldn't really tell the difference, to be honest) and announced she was headed to the nurse's office. I offered to go with her but Erica shrugged me off. I hadn't wanted to force my company on her or make her feel like an invalid so I simply sent her on her way with a wave and smile; happy to hide out in the locker room for the rest of gym class and get an early start on changing.

After applying a new coat of lip-gloss I slip my tote, filled with binders and miscellaneous objects, over my shoulder and begin to head towards the door.

"I'll meet you guys-" my throat constricted mid-sentence and I my body tensed with panic.

Something was wrong.

I drop my bag and sprint towards the gym; shouting my friend's name before I even registered why. "Erica!" My eyes widened when I caught sight of the back of her blonde head shaking so quickly it looked blurred.

I entered the gymnasium mid-fall and sprinted as fast as I could in a feeble attempt to catch her before she hit the hardwood floor.

I didn't reach her in time.

"Oh my god," I gasped while falling to my knees beside my fallen friend. Her body was convulsing wildly and she was foaming at the mouth; textbook signs of a seizer.

"What's going on?"

As I turned Erica onto her side I glanced over my shoulder to see Scott and Stiles looking down to the scene with wide eyes.

"Don't just stand there!" I shout angrily at the clueless boys. "Get the nurse! Call 911!"

Stiles immediately took off; his phone already to his ear as he sprinted away.

"How did you know?" I heard Allison ask as she and Lydia joined my brother and me.

"I felt it," I answer in a soft voice while looking down at my seizing friend; silently cursing myself for allowing her to leave the locker room without me.

XXXXXXXXX

I chewed my thumbnail nervously while eyeing the cellphone sitting before me with impatient eyes. Every few seconds I would glance at the cable box propped on the television a few feet away to check the time before looking back at my blank phone; silently willing it to ring.

"I'm sure she's fine," Stiles reassures while rubbing a soothing circle on my hunched back.

I sigh and lean into his side; immediately comforted by his touch. "I just don't get it," I whisper as Stiles hugs me to his chest and reclines our bodies comfortably. "She's on medication," I continue, "she shouldn't be seizing."

"They'll figure it out," Stiles replies before tucking my head under his chin.

I nod slightly before letting out a little smile. "I missed you," I confess while tracing the band logo on his t-shirt.

My heart flutters when Stiles lays a tender kiss on my right temple. "I missed you too," he whispers before leaning forward to nuzzle into the crook of my neck.

We'd been lounging in the living room since he took me home. Scott had work from 3 until 5 and Mom was called in at noon today; meaning she wouldn't be home until late tonight, so Stiles decided to stay and keep me company. His presence made me feel at ease; like I could breathe again. A weekend without Stiles may have seemed like a short amount of time, but it had felt like forever.

I heave out a content sigh while running the pads of my fingers up and down the prickly hairs at the nape of Stiles' neck. "I could get used to this," I murmur while letting my eyes drowsily flutter closed.

"Me too," Stiles responded just before we fell into a light slumber.

XXXXXXXXX

When I awoke, it was to the sound of my brother's hushed voice.

"That's uh- that's good. Yeah, I'll let her know. Yeah. Uh, thanks. Bye."

I let out a soft groan (caused by the general discomfort of being conscious) and reluctantly open my eyes to stare up at my sheepish looking twin. I watch as he guiltily places my phone down onto the coffee table in the exact position I had put it in earlier.

"Scott?" I question in drowsy confusion.

I go to sit up but a heavy (although not crushing) weight stops me from doing so. Oh right; Stiles.

"Hey," my twin greets with a wave. "Sorry; didn't mean to wake you."

"Who were you on the phone with?" I ask while settling back down into a lounged position.

Stiles and I hadn't moved in our sleep; his lithe yet broad frame was still draped over much of my body while his forehead pressed against the crook of my neck. With each inhale and exhale a light breeze would fan across my right collar bone; making goose bumps rise there. That was one of the things I loved having in common with Stiles; how soundly we sleep. We don't snore, or toss, or kick; once we're in a comfortable position we stay that way. It made sharing a bed (or in this case a sofa) a lot easier than it could be.

"Erica," Scott answers in a hushed tone.

"How is she?" I ask while trying to keep my voice controlled. Stiles was cute when he slept, after all.

"Fine," he answers. "She said she'd see you in school tomorrow."

My brow rose in surprise. It was a clear message; don't call, but didn't she get that I was concerned? Scared, even? Still, I couldn't let my selfishness get in the way of Erica's wants. She was probably tired. This was the first time in eight months that she's seized, and the tests I'm sure her doctors ran wore her out.

"Yeah," I whisper with a miniscule nod. "Okay."

"Speaking of tomorrow," Scott begins with an excited smile as he took a seat at the armchair adjacent to the couch, "are you excited?"

"Excited?" I echo in confusion. "Excited for what?"

"No," Stiles suddenly groans; making me squeak in surprise as tightens his hold on my waist. "It's a surprise!"

"Jesus Christ!" I yelp while slapping Stiles' shoulder and pushing myself up into a seated position.

"_Vanessa_," Stiles whines as I push him off of my lap and onto the other side of the couch.

I roll my eyes at his antics and turn to my chuckling brother. "What's going on tomorrow?" I demand.

"Don't tell her!" Stiles interrupts.

"Sorry," Scott smiles to me apologetically with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You don't sound it," I pout while crossing my arms. "Stiles," I begin while turning to said boy, "you know I hate surprises."

"You'll like this one," he says with a sure smile. "I promise."

I eyed Stiles critically for a moment; taking in his self-satisfied grin and slightly flushed cheeks as my pout slipped away only to be replaced by a soft smile. How could I say 'no' to a face like that?

"Fine," I sigh with fake resignation. "But I'm not happy about it."

XXXXXXXXX

After making dinner for everyone (the boys tried to help but after Scott set the paper towels on fire I ordered them to observe and not touch) we all ate before I sent Stiles off with a plate for the sheriff and a quick, chaste, and ever-so-lovely kiss. Mom had called in at around 8 to say goodnight and tell us she wouldn't be getting in until around midnight so we shouldn't wait up, so that left Scott and I alone. It was nice; I was really starting to miss my brother. That sounds kind of stupid, I mean we're together all of the time, but lately I felt… distant from him. It was just nice to spend a little quiet time with my twin; watching The Carrie Diaries (despite his protests) and chatting about miscellaneous things the way we were doing now.

"So, you and Stiles huh?"

I turned away from the heartwarming scene of Carrie, her sister, and her friends to give my brother a questioning look.

"What do you mean?" I ask with a tilt of my head.

Scott rolls his dark eyes and nudges my shoulder with his. "You know what I mean."

My face warms and I begin to nervously fiddle with the end of my pajama top. "Oh," I state stupidly. "Uh, yeah. I mean, I guess. We haven't gone out on a date or anything but uhm… yeah. I guess... me and Stiles."

Foot, mouth, I'm sure you've met each other a few times.

"It's really cool," Scott says with a peculiar expression on his face. "You guys being together, I mean."

"Yeah," I nod with flaming cheeks; apprehensive about this whole conversation. "It's… cool."

"Well this has been awkward," Scott says while getting to his feet; making me laugh at both of our embarrassment.

"No," I chuckle with a shake of my head. "Well, yeah, but tonight was… nice. It's nice hanging out with you. I miss us."

"Me too," Scott replies before ruffling my hair affectionately. "But next time," he begins as I slap his unwanted hand away with a mock-scowl, "_I_ pick what we watch."

"Oh please," I scoff as he ascends our house's stairs, "don't pretend like you don't love the CW!"

My response was laughter and the sound of his bedroom door shutting.

XXXXXXXXX

"Hey Nessa!" my brother's (secret) girlfriend greets as I take my seat at our shared lunch table.

"Hey," I smile while pulling my packed lunch out of my bag.

"How excited are you about later?" Allison questioned in a hushed yet enthusiastic voice while leaning in across the table towards me.

My happy expression immediately transformed into a scowl as I looked at my renewed friend. "You know," I seethe before turning to look expectantly at my twin brother. "How come she gets to know and I don't?" I whine while stamping my foot in frustration.

Honestly, it was like everyone was in on the surprise except for me!

Well no, that's an exaggeration… but Scott and Stiles have been dropping hints all day about what was happening later and it's been driving me _insane!_

"Because for _you_," I look up at the sudden voice to see Stiles smiling down at me with amusement, "it's a surprise."

"That's not fair," I protest as he takes a seat to my right. "What if I end up hating it? Or I'm not dressed for it? Or-?"

"I'll help you get ready," Allison interrupts; making my attention snap back to her. I watch as she turns to Stiles with a weird look of admiration and awe on her face. "A surprise!" she exclaims somewhat breathlessly. "Aw, Stiles, that's so cute!" Before I have the time to get jealous at the way she's made my… Stiles blush, Allison's glaring at my brother with surprising malice. "How come _you_ don't surprise _me_?" she demands.

I laugh at the frightened expression on Scott's face before turning back to Stiles; blocking out my twin's hushed and feeble excuse of, "we're a secret, remember?"

"_Stiles_," I whine while pulling on my best puppy-dog look, "tell me what the surprise is? Please?"

I may or may not have batted my eyelashes a few times for the added affect.

"Oh, _unfair_," he says while lifting up a hand to lay across the lower half of my face. "You're _so_ not allowed to use The Pout right now!"

The Pout is something I've perfected over the years. I think the first time I did it was in third grade to get Stiles to buy cotton candy for me at the Fireman's Fair. It's worked every time without fail since then, and although I don't like to use it a lot I do pull it out when needed.

"C'mon Ness," Stiles sighs while releasing me and pulling on a pout of his own (that quite honestly melted my heart), "don't make me give it away. It'll be fun; you'll love it."

I roll my eyes and try to play off the heating of my cheeks as caused by annoyance/frustration. Honestly I was starting to feel bad about my incessant pestering. Not that I would admit to it out loud, of course.

"Fine," I sigh while ducking down to lean my head against Stiles' shoulder. "Sorry," I then apologize in a mumble.

A large smile lights up my face when I feel Stiles press a kiss to the crown of my head, and I try to hide my euphoric expression by pressing my face into his chest.

"Don't be," he begins in a teasing tone while lifting his arm to tuck me under his shoulder. "You're impatience is adorable."

"Ugh," I hear Lydia's pitched tone scoff in mock-disgust, "you two give me a tooth ache."

"Seriously," Danny chimes in as I lean away from Stiles to give the pair a narrow-eyed gaze.

"Hey," I begin sharply in protest, "you didn't hear me complaining when-"

"Yes you did," Lydia and Danny chorus; making my cross my arms and huff.

Well, okay, yeah I did. In fact whenever I caught Danny or Lydia with their then-partners and now-exes I would make gagging noises or tease them until they stopped making out and started paying attention to me.

"Pay back's a bit-"

Lydia's antagonizing comment was cut short when Greenburg cursed with wide, awe-filled eyes.

"Holy crap," Greenburg began while looking to the cafeteria's entrance over my shoulder, "who is _that_?"

I turned to look over my shoulder and, like Greenburg, my jaw was on the floor.

Erica Reyes strutted in with her head held high and boobs pushed out; looking about ready to conquer the world one seduction at a time. As I took in my friend's transformed self (the hair, clear skin, biker-chic clothing) I couldn't help but wonder… what the hell had happened to my friend?

A pit formed in my stomach and, driven by the instinct my weird sixth-sense has, I peaked at my brother from over my shoulder only to find him look to me at the same time. When our eyes met I immediately knew the answer to my question.

Erica Reyes was a werewolf.

**Author's Note!**

**Wow, am I always making excuses for being late or is that just me?**

**I've gotten a lot of PMs and a few reviews on here asking about my illness/what it is and, for the sake of not worrying you guys and my sanity, I'm not going to post the name. Just know that I think the worst of this flare-up is over, so that means quicker chapters and more in-depth review replies.**

**Please, leave a review and tell me what you think of this chapter! Nothing really happened (besides for y'know, Erica being turned into a freaking werewolf!) but there was Stinessa fluff and Twin Time; a much needed break from the craziness that is Vanessa McCall's life.**

**Ah, next chapter is Stiles' and Vanessa's first date! Her outfit will be up on my polyvore account so check it out!**

**Thanks guys, and DFTBA!**


	46. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three**

I was tailing Erica out of the cafeteria before I even had the opportunity to pause and think. Her long-legged struts equated to three of my longest strides; an obvious disadvantage. I tried to call out her name but my voice seemed to die every time I parted my lips to speak. My brain had simultaneously gone blank and went racing; a contradiction that made my forehead throb with a growing migraine.

I hadn't noticed Stiles and Scott had followed as well until I stumbled and Stiles caught me from falling. I just pushed myself to move faster; not even bothering to throw a "thanks" over my shoulder. My sole focus was Erica.

I watched her graceful and agile movements like a hawk. I couldn't help but compare the new her to the old her. The confidence was a change I internally celebrated but this over-sexualized and arrogant persona was… cringe-worthy. And I couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking that way. What kind of friend am I to disapprove of how Erica presents herself? What kind of _person_ am I to want Erica to be meek again; small and quivering like a scared child?

My nose was turned numb and red from the cold weather, and it took me a moment to remember how I got outside.

I watch with wide eyes as my friend climbs excitedly into Derek Hale's Camaro; throwing a wink and flirtatious smile over her shoulder at me and the boys- letting us know she knew we'd been following her the entire time. Letting us know she knew _we_ knew what she is.

They drive away so quickly Derek's car is a blur, and it kills me to think the only thing I can do is watch.

"She'll be killed," I whisper while blinking my building tears away rapidly; still not looking from the school's parking lot. "Erica's not- she's fragile- or was- I-" my voice cracks and I snap my mouth closed; not wanting to cry.

Stiles lays a warm hand on the small of my back and pulls me into his body, and more importantly, into a warm and comforting embrace.

"We won't let anything happen to her," he promises as I close my eyes and take in a few deep and calming breaths.

"You can't promise that," I deny with a small shake of my head while pulling away.

The school bell rings; alerting us of the end of the period. Lead grows in my stomach when I realize if we stick around any longer we'll be late for Chem.

"We'll deal with it tomorrow," Scott announces while opening the door and nodding into the hallway; indicating I go in first. "One more day of normalcy, okay?"

I bite the corner of my lip; mulling my brother's proposal over before giving a short nod in agreement. "Yeah."

One more day. Just one more day.

* * *

The harsh smell of nail varnish ran rampant in my bedroom; causing me to scrunch my nose in disgust. Normally I would paint my nails outside or open a window, but it was much too cold to do that today.

"Lydia," I whine while eyeing the strawberry blonde in distress, "I'll be wearing mittens _anyway_! My nails don't matter!"

After Allison had let the secret slip to Lydia in Chem (I was still annoyingly in the dark) Lydia had invited herself to the mystery outing. Stiles and Scott hadn't been too keen on the idea of her tagging along but their arguments died quickly when I confessed having Lydia nearby would put me at ease.

"Lydia might not have taken to Peter's bite, but I don't want to see if Derek wants to have his own turn," I'd said in a voice dripping with conviction on pure stubbornness.

Stiles and Scott were quick to give in after that.

"If things go according to plan these pretty little nails will be digging into your boyfriend's unimpressive bod," Lydia begins without looking up from the task at hand, "so shut up. I'm almost done."

My face flames to the shade of my cherry-red polish as I gape scandalously down at my brash friend. "_Lydia!_"

"Oh, stop teasing her," Allison chastises with an amused smile.

"It's not my fault Nessa's a prude," Lydia dismisses airily while finishing up my last nail. "All done."

"I'm _not_ a prude," I protest with a pout.

"Oh?" my fashionista friend prompts with an upwards quirk of her right brow. "Then tell me; have you and Second String taken a ride to Pound Town yet?"

"_Lydia Martin!_" I shriek over Allison and Lydia's rambunctious laughter.

"Your face!" Lydia crows through frantic gasps for breath.

I simply glared at the giggling girls in return through narrowed eyes and blushing cheeks; trying to remind myself that in an hour Stiles would be here and all of this torture would be worth it.

* * *

"Pack some socks, too," Allison advises while slipping her delicate hands into a borrowed glove set.

"Okay," I start with a furrowed brow, "now I'm officially confused. What are we-?"

"Stiles is here," Scott interrupts while appearing in my bedroom doorway with a smile.

"Joy!" Lydia cheers sarcastically; earning her an annoyed look directed by my twin.

"You don't have to come, you know," Scott snaps irritably.

"Scott," I reprimand with a stern glare that makes him wince.

"Right," he sighs reluctantly before turning to the strawberry blonde once more. "Sorry."

"C'mon," Allison cuts in while grabbing her boyfriend's hand. "Let's get going. Lydia, you're riding with us."

"What?" Lydia whines. "Why can't I go with Vanessa?"

"See you soon!" Allison smiles cheerfully to me while forcefully dragging Lydia from my bedroom. "You'll love it; I promise."

I stare after them for a moment before smiling softly and giving my head a clearing shake. Our merry band of misfits was too much sometimes. Amusing and fun, sure, but too much.

After packing a pair of thick socks like Allison had recommended (why I would need them I didn't know) into my small bag and pulling my favorite mittens out of my desk drawer I turned to exit my bedroom only to find Stiles in its doorway.

"Jesus!" I gasped at the unexpected sight of him while clutching a hand to my racing heart. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he smiles; embarrassed for some strange reason. "Here," he begins while pulling something out from behind his back. "I uh, got you some-"

"Tulips," I breathe while reaching out to touch the colorful bouquet. They were beautiful; ranging from crisp whites to deep violets. I gently brushed my fingertips along the flowers' petals and relished in their velveteen feeling.

"They're still your favorite flower, right?" Stiles asked nervously as the hand laying at his side ticked.

I looked up and away from the flowers to gaze wide-eyed into Stiles' iced-coffee orbs. I couldn't even remember a time when I had mentioned my love for Tulips- not to him or to anyone.

"Right," I echo in awed confirmation with a nod of my head.

Stiles smiled suddenly, and I swear my bedroom brightened as a result. "Good. Now c'mon; we've got a date to get to."

* * *

When we pulled into the ice skating rink's parking lot I tensed in nervousness.

"Stiles, I can't ice skate," I say while turning to look at the boy in the driver's seat beside me.

"I know," he replies easily with a smile. "That's why I'm gonna teach you."

"I'll get hurt," I protest with a shake of my head. "I-I'll fall and probably drag you down too and-"

"So then you fall, Vanessa," Stiles interrupts with a smile and shrug. "What's the worst that could happen?"

I eye his profile for a moment; take in his translucent skin, rosy cheeks, thick brow, and every other feature that makes him so utterly _Stiles_ I could scream. He'd seemed so satisfied with himself ever since I'd proclaimed my love for the tulips when we were putting them in a vase of water, but now at my voiced protests about ice skating I could see the subtle changes caused by nerves in him. My chest swelled with guilt as the Jeep came to a halt beside Allison's still vehicle, and in an attempt to make up for it I lean across the seat to give Stiles a peck on the cheek.

"You're sweet," I say in an accusing tone while eyeing the smiling teen.

"No, no, no," Stiles denies with a shake of his head as his grin grows. "I'm smooth, remember?"

I laugh at the reference while flushing at the memory. "Like silk," I reply while leaning away so I can exit the truck.

Stiles catches my upper arm and kisses me soundly before leaning away with a self-satisfied smirk. "Like silk," he echoes as my face warms uncomfortably.

Dammit. Stupid Stiles.

The six words that had just come from Stiles' mouth had sent the fear of god into my heart in a way that had never happened before.

"I'm gonna let go now, okay?"

Shit, I hate ice skating.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I shout quickly while tightening my grip on his wrists and pulling his hands inwards so they would stay firmly planted on my hips.

It had taken me thirty minutes to step away from the barrier and I knew damn well it would be another fifty until I was comfortable enough to allow Stiles to let go and have me fend for myself. I hadn't fallen yet, though, which was an accomplishment I was extremely proud of.

I could both feel and hear Stiles' laughter as he ducked down slightly to rest his chin on my right shoulder.

"Okay, okay," he relents as he glides us slowly forward. "Just _relax_, Nessa."

"Quit being such a baby," Lydia chimes in while speeding by going, wait for it, _backwards_. "Ice skating's easy."

I press my lips into a firm line and glare at my blonde friend (who'd been figure skating since the crest of seven) with as much hate as I can muster. "Why did I want her here, again?" I grumble; causing Stiles to laugh once more.

"C'mon, Ness," he the prompts, "you can do it. Just glide. No- don't pick your feet up. Just-"

In an attempt to "glide" my skate got caught in a curved groove and before I knew what was happening I was already on my back with the wind knocked out of my lungs.

Yeah… I really, _really_ hate ice skating.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked over Lydia's pitched giggles while hunching forward to lift me up by the underside of my arms.

"Fine," I reply; although there's a wheeze to my voice that suggests otherwise. "Can we take a break or something?" I then ask with a wince; unhappy that my feet are still on unstable ground.

Stiles easily propels us to the nearest exit and I step gratefully onto the hard floor with a wobble. My shoulders immediately sag in relief and I head towards a close bench beside a stocked vending machine.

How good it is to be on stable ground once more.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Stiles frets while kneeling in front of me; his hands hovering over my shoulders as if I was about to keel over right here and now.

I roll my eyes at his unneeded concern before giving the concerned boy a reassuring smile. "I'm fine," I say before pulling a mockingly thoughtful face. "Well, my ass is a little cold from that fall but-"

"Shut up," Stiles chuckles with a soft shake of his head before his eyes critically sweep my body for injuries once more.

"Stiles," I begin in a stern voice that makes his iced-coffee orbs snap to mine, "I'm _fine_."

"Okay, okay," he relents while raising his hands in surrender. "No injuries; I get it."

"Good," I humph with a satisfied nod of my head. "Now go get me a Reese's."

"Why can't you get it yourself?" Stiles whines; although I know it's just for show.

"Because boyfriends pay on dates; not girlfriends," I reply while rolling my eyes at his antics.

Stiles gets to his feet and walks the few yards to the vending machine while pulling a few dollar bills form his back pocket.

"Says the girl who's been lecturing me my whole life about gender roles," he teases while punching in the chocolate candy's code.

"I ice skated for you," I retort with a smile. "I think I deserve some sort of reward."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees while falling into the empty space beside me. "Here."

"Thanks!" I chirp happily after taking my damp mittens off and grabbing the orange package from Stiles' offered hand.

After opening the prized candy (nothing beats Reese's Pieces Peanut Butter Cups- forreal) I handed a cup to Stiles before merrily taking a bite of my own chocolaty treat while eyeing Lydia's impressive figure skating skills. But then the soft sound of Stiles' familiar chuckle drew my attention away from Lydia and back to him.

"What?" I asked nervously while adjusting my drooping beanie.

"Nothing," he replies before his smile and voice turns soft. "I just really like you, Nessa."

My heart fluttered and I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from grinning too wide.

"I really like you too," I confess while looking down to my fiddling hands in embarrassment.

"Good."

And then the next thing I know Stiles is cupping my face and we're kissing; both euphorically wrapped in each other and whatever it is we have between us.

"You taste like Reese's," Stiles giggles while pulling momentarily away.

I roll my eyes and smile while firmly grasping the collar of his coat. "Shut up," I reply with a laugh… but then my laughter dies, and I'm hit with a feeling of dread and indescribable fear. And I'm on my feet; stumbling back towards the ice rink before Lydia's horror-stricken screech even has the opportunity to fill the air.

As I tripped across the ice towards Lydia, who's staring down at something terrifying I know only she can see, I realize that one more day was too much to ask for; but a few more hours had been much more than enough.

**Author's Note: READ READ READ!**

**Stinessa goodness, Lydia drama, Derek drama and all in one day! Vanessa can't catch a break. Still, she's thankful for whatever bone she's thrown.**

**I don't know whats happening, but I really, really love the idea of Vanessa growing close with Allison. Next chapter her stitches will be taken out which means training is just around the corner. And what about those answers Nessa was after, hmm? I can't wait until you guys see what I have planned- it's gonna be fun. Vanessa McCall won't be needing saving anymore!**

**Also, I have a question for you guys! In the beginning of this story when I gave Vanessa her "feelings" or "premonitions" I never intended to make a big deal out of it, but with Scott and Vanessa's Dad's wedding rehearsals and wedding itself coming up (which will mean family gatherings) I'm debating to, perhaps, give Nessa some witch-y powers? Kind of like Bonnie from TVD, but less centered around the earth (like how Bonnie uses salt and things of that nature) and more focused on a person's aura and the mind's eye. What do you guys think? If I end up doing it I'm going to be needing some faceclaim suggestions for either Melissa McCall's mother or Collin McCall's mother (haven't decided which side of the family the powers will come from yet). Please leave me suggestions in the reviews!**

**Also, I know this chapter took forever but I wrote it around three times because I couldn't find a composition I liked. Did you guys enjoy the one I finally picked? And oh my goodness my parents got me a bunch of beautiful leather journals and I've been setting up timelines and planning out season 3 (if I chose to go AU for it) in one of them as well as everything that is AU currently and gosh- you guys are going to love what's to come!**

**So drop a review, so sorry this took so long, and to everyone (like me) who's going to be affected by this blizzard/was affected by the tornados in Georgia stay safe and you're all in my thoughts!**

**DFTBA**


	47. Chapter 44

**Vanessa's finally going to get the answers she's been looking for, and an unlikely (although not surprising) acquaintance will occur. Also some twin fighting which is more… brutal than previous spats. Enjoy; and happy belated Valentine's Day! If you don't know the true origin of Valentine's Day you should look it up because it really wasn't a holiday Hallmark and candy companies made up; rather a pretty cute story about secret marriages and love.**

**Chapter Forty-Four**

"Lydia your grooming choices are your grooming choices; all I'm saying is if you wanted to grow armpit hair I would totally support-"

"Why do I feel like I'm walking in a conversation I don't want to be anywhere near?"

With an embarrassed smile I look up to see Stiles staring down at Lydia and I with a perplexed expression on his handsome face.

"Hey," I greet meekly before shrugging off my embarrassment with a grin.

"Hey," he singsongs in response while taking his regular seat to my right before kissing my temple affectionately. "So how did the doctor go?"

I beam at the mention of this morning's appointment before replying, "You are now looking at a fully recovered girl, Stiles Stilinski; take it in." I strike a pose that makes him laugh but before he can respond Lydia cuts in.

"Which means you two are free to bone," the strawberry blonde announces with eyes sparked with mischief and mocking.

"Is your nose ever in business that's _actually_ your own?" I snap back with an irritated roll of my eyes.

"Touchy, touchy," Lydia tsks with a smirk; happy to get a reaction out of me.

Bitch.

"Anyway," Stiles begins loudly, "have either of you seen Boyd today?"

I frown thoughtfully and think back to the only class I have with said boy. "He wasn't in Global," I answer while eyeing Stiles curiously, "why?"

"I have to give him back the rink's keys still," he answers before ducking in slightly to whisper; "he hasn't been answering his phone since yesterday and-"

"You don't think-?"

"I don't know."

"Hey guys!" Allison chirps brightly while taking her seat beside Lydia.

Scott joins the table soon after, and with Lydia thoroughly occupied I turn to the boys with a werewolf agenda.

"We need to find Boyd," I announce in a hushed tone while sending them meaningful looks. "Derek's been going after high school students, right? He could-"

"Boyd could just be sick," Scott interrupts.

"Doubtful," Stiles snorts. "That kid's had perfect attendance since like, grade four."

"Point is," I cut in importantly, "we need to get to him before he makes the decision to take the bite or not."

"Right," Scott nods in acceptance. "Okay. So I'll check out the ice rink and-"

"I'll head over to his house," Stiles finishes.

"What about me?" I ask with a furrowing brow.

"We'll call you if we find anything," Scott answers; making my mouth drop in surprise.

"What? No way!" I protest. "That's such bull-!"

"Just go home and rest," Stiles says with a sympathetic smile that sends my teeth on edge. "We don't want you getting hurt again."

My blood boils at the insinuation and I'm gathering my books and exiting the cafeteria in a huff before the anger truly sets in.

I'm not some weak little girl who needs to be protected all of the time! I'll show them! Vanessa Marisol McCall is a capable, strong, and powerful young woman who doesn't need to be sheltered or looked after!

With a plan already formulating I exchanged my school books before ducking into a girls' bathroom far enough so I wouldn't be in Scott's hearing range.

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

"Hello?" a gruff voice answered; making my heart flutter with adrenaline.

"Derek? It's me; Vanessa. We need to talk; I need some answers. Pick me up at the corner of Bradley and Garden Street after school today- and _don't _tell Scott."

And to my surprise… he agreed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I entered the purring Camaro with hesitance- hesitance that was quickly overridden by stubbornness and spite. "Just go home and rest," Stiles had said. Ha!

"What is this about?" Derek demanded as we peeled away.

I struggled to buckle my seatbelt for a moment before turning to the alpha to reply. "I told you," I begin sternly, "I need answers."

He snorts cruelly at my response in a strange mix of amusement and bitterness. "And why should I give you them, huh?"

"Because we're on the same side," I reply; hating how naive I sound. "Because I know in order to keep my brother safe he needs to be a part of your pack."

"You've said it yourself," Derek begins as we take a sharp turn towards the industrial district, "Scott doesn't listen to you."

My brow raises in surprise at the mention of a short conversation we'd had months ago. Did lycanthropy entail a good memory?

"Fine," I snap while pressing my lips into a firm line. "But you owe me an explanation."

"Oh yeah?" he prompts while glancing away from the road and to me. "How do you figure?"

"You turned my _best friend_ into a freaking werewolf _knowing_ the Argents are out for blood!" I accuse angrily. "I'm pretty sure that entitles me to a few answers, Derek!"

"She needed that bite," he says with conviction.

"How do you figure?" I mock.

Derek's lips twitch upward for a second before his scowl continues its permanent reign. "Erica is stronger now; faster, _healthy_. Scott's asthma was cured by the bite, wasn't it? Her-"

"You cured her epilepsy?" I ask with slight awe as my eyes widen at the revelation.

"_The bite_ cured her epilepsy," he responds. "Next question."

"Why Isaac?" I press.

"His father was beating the crap out of him," Derek replies; making me wince at the horrifying notion. "There was a torture chamber in his basement for Christ's sake."

"So what," I begin with a furrowed brow, "you're choosing people who benefit from being a werewolf?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Derek questions while glancing at me once more. "Last I heard you thought I was a good guy."

"Why did you agree today?" I deflect. "You could have said no."

I'm surprised at the smile Derek directs my way before turning his attention back to the road we're speeding through. "You remind me of my sister."

I'm stunned into silence for a few moments before I gather my wits enough to reply.

"I'll talk to Scott," I begin while looking out to the buildings blurring by. "Try to convince him to join your pack. Maybe if I tell him why you're changing Boyd and-"

"What?" Derek interrupts; his voice suddenly angry.

"What?" I echo cluelessly while giving the alpha my attention once more.

"You know about Boyd?" he questions as his eyes light with fury.

My throat constricts and I gape at him, open-mouthed for a moment but it seems that's enough of an answer for him.

"Erica," Derek snaps into his cell; his voice filled with authority, "get to Boyd's house _now_. If anyone's there-"

"Stiles," I whisper with wide eyes before shaking my head vigorously in protest. "No, tell her she is _not allowed_ to hurt him!"

"Do what you have to and then meet me at the ice rink," Derek orders before hanging up and letting his phone fall into his lap.

"If she touches one hair on his head, Derek, I swear to God-!" I begin threateningly as my heart pounds at the thought.

"Relax," he interrupts with an annoyed roll of his eyes. "Your little boyfriend isn't a threat- she won't hurt him."

We make a sharp turn that makes me clutch onto my seatbelt for dear life and, panicking slightly, I question, "Where are we going?"

"To get Isaac," Derek answers simply. "And then to have a nice talk with your brother."

Oh _shit_.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You don't have to manhandle me, y'know," I snap while stumbling against Isaac's unwavering grip. "I thought you had your fix last time we saw each other."

"Oh right," Isaac begins with a thoughtful frown as he tugs me towards the ice rink's entrance. "Sorry about that," he shrugs.

"You don't sound sorry," I grumble while tripping up on an entrance step.

"Cheer up, Grumpy," the familiar voice of a changed friend chimes, "the _party_ has arrived."

"Erica!" I greet happily; somehow joyed at our strange reunion.

"I'll take her," the blonde offers while reaching a hand out to me, only to be shut down by her alpha.

"No," Derek snaps sternly from the door. "Now quit playing and get inside."

"Who does he think he is?" I question ruefully in an irritated whisper. "Papa Wolf?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The look of pure betrayal on Scott's face when I'd been pulled into the rink is an expression I will never forget. The only thing I could do when Derek beat the crap out of him was watch- somewhere along the way I'd been passed to Erica, and no matter how loud I pleaded for her to let me go she didn't. Her hold was just as steadfast as Isaac's, so resistance is futile. That didn't mean I didn't try though.

Only when my brother was a panting, bloodied mess on the ice was I released- and by the time I slipped to Scott's side Derek's pack (including Boyd) was already gone.

"Scott-" I begin while reaching out to lay a hand on his heaving back.

"_Don't_," he snapped angrily while pushing himself farther away from me.

"It isn't what it looks like," I protest while raising my hands in surrender.

"Well I hope so, Vanessa, because to me it looks like you didn't get your way so you switched teams!"

"Don't be stupid," I dismiss as the ice dampens my jeans and chills my bones. "We're all on the same side here, Scott."

"No!" my twin shouts. "No, we're not! I am _not_ on Derek's side!"

"Would you listen to yourself!" I yell; matching his volume and anger. "You sound like a spiteful little kid!"

"Spiteful?" Scott echoes incredulously before barking out a harsh laugh. "That's rich coming from you! What, you didn't want to hear what Stiles had to say so you jumped at Derek?"

I recoil at the implication and tears of hurt and anger well up in my eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about! I didn't jump at anyone!"

"Sure seems that way!" Scott roars; overcome by pure rage. "Is one guy not enough for you now, Nessa?"

"Shut up!" I snap. "You're talking out of your ass!"

"As opposed to you," he begins while getting easily to his feet, "who spreads her legs to the enemy."

My mouth dropped and hot tears slid painfully down my numb cheeks. "Fuck you," I whispered; unable to retort further.

"No Vanessa," Scott begins with a sneer as he stomps past, "fuck _you._"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey Stiles," I sniffle while shuffling out of the ice rink's doors and into the parking lot, "it's me. I'm just calling to see if you're okay. I uh, know Erica went to Boyd's house and- uhm, well… a lot happened tonight and we really need to talk. I know you told me to stay home and I'm sorry I didn't listen but-" my voice cracks and I bite my quivering lip in an attempt to keep my tears at bay. "We just really need to talk, okay? Call me back when you get this."

I heave a sigh and hang up the phone before slipping my cold hands into my coat pockets. I felt like crap; complete and utter crap. Scott hates me, and worse than that some of what he'd said tonight was true. (Not me trying to get with Derek- gross.) I was being spiteful today. He and Stiles told me "no" so I went and did something I knew they wouldn't approve of under the guise I would be getting answers- and I mean, I did get them but at what price?

Fifteen minutes into my walk home I started to grow worried when Stiles still hadn't called me back. I knew Erica hadn't hurt him (or at least hurt him seriously in a way that would prevent him from picking up a phone) so where was he? The fear of my brother reaching Stiles before I did- of Scott telling Stiles things that were _so not_ true- overwhelmed me for a moment and in a panic I pulled my phone out once more with the intentions of giving my boyfriend another call. Just as I began to dial, however, Sheriff Stilinski's contact information popped up on my screen.

"Hello?" I greeted in confusion after picking up and pulling the phone to my ear.

"Vanessa it's the sheriff," Mr. Stilinski began; his voice slightly tight with emotion. "Listen, there's been an accident at the mechanics. Stiles was hurt- it doesn't look like anything serious but the paramedics are checking him now."

My body tensed at the news and my walking immediately stilled.

"Anyway," the sheriff continued somewhat uncomfortably, "I just figured I should give you a call and-"

"I'm on my way," I interrupt; my voice choked but slightly out of breath from the running I'm suddenly doing.

"What?" Sheriff Stilinski questions. "No you don't need-"

"Tell Stiles I'll be right there," I demand while turning down Fae Street; pushing my out of shape body as hard as it could go before hanging up the phone and sprinting frantically towards the boy I love- my mind racing and eyes watering once more.

**Author's Note!**

**How'd you guys like it? Let me know in the reviews- only 5 more until this story has 200!**

**Shout out to the wonderfully talented author on this site Witherychode who has been catching up on this story and reviewing religiously; you're the best! If you're an FMA fan you should definitely check out her Fullmetal Alchemist fanfic, and for anyone looking for another Stiles/OC fic she's got the beginnings of a really good one posted!**

**Thanks guys, and DFTBA!**


	48. Chapter 45

**Chapter Forty-Five**

"Dad I swear, I'm fine. Just give me my keys and-"

"The Jeep's evidence, son. I'll have a deputy drive you home and-"

"Aw _Dad_, seriously? Why can't I just-?"

I slipped under the police tape and engulfed my protesting boyfriend into the tightest hug I could manage.

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed through my frantic gasps for breath. I'd sprinted six blocks and now that I'd stopped the exertion was catching up to me. "Are you alright?" I question while leaning away slightly to cup the sides of his freckled face to hold him still and scan it for visible injury.

"Oh yeah," Sheriff Stilinski begins conversationally with false remembrance, "I called Vanessa."

"I can see that," Stiles replies dryly while glancing at his father just over my head before training his eyes back own me.

"What happened?" I ask urgently before leaning up to kiss him frantically; overwhelmed with relief to see him up and using sarcasm. "I'm so glad you're okay," I then sigh after pulling away before he could have a change to respond. "You are okay, aren't you?"

"Which question do you want me to answer?" Stiles jokes while smiling charmingly down at me.

"All of them," I scowl.

"I'm fine," Stiles laughs before a crease formed in between his brows. "Why are you panting?"

"I ran here," I answer breezily while eyeing him once more. "Are you _sure_ you're-?"

"You _ran_ here?" he interrupts.

"Make sure he gets home alright, Nessa," Sheriff Stilinski cuts in; catching my and Stiles' attention.

"Of course," I answer immediately with a nod.

Satisfied, the officer patted Stiles once on the back before approaching a pair of his men with a grim expression.

"Stiles what _happened_?" I press while turning back to said boy concernedly.

I watched as his iced-coffee eyes flicked around the parking lot crawling with officers before he ducked down and whispered, "Not here."

I nod in understanding and grab his hand before leading us off. "We'll walk to your house," I say, "and then I'll call my mom to pick me up. She gets off in a few hours anyway."

On the walk to his house Stiles started the recount of tonight with heading over to Boyd's and ended with being paralyzed by a snake-like creature with familiar eyes. I listened attentively and tightened my grasp on his hand in reassurance when Stiles' voice became choked at the mention of witnessing the mechanic's death. Fifteen minutes later we were thawing out frozen noses in Stiles' bedroom; curled up on his bed in an attempt to unwind from a wild night.

A wild night I had yet to tell him about…

With a shaky inhale I sat up and turned to Stiles; my expression apologetic and grim.

"What's wro-?"

"I met up with Derek tonight," I blurt while looking to his plaid button-up in an attempt to avoid his gaze. "N-not like that," I correct, "I mean- Scott thought that I- he called me a- he didn't mean it though- I don't think-"

"Whoa, whoa!" Stiles interrupts while holding up a silencing hand. "Slow down," he advises soothingly as my gaze flickers up to meet his.

"Okay," I nod jerkily while inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm down. "Okay. After school today I met up with Derek," I begin; fractionally calmer now. "I know I shouldn't have but I was being spiteful and stupid and when you told me I couldn't help I just-" I broke off and shook my head. "No, I shouldn't make excuses. I called him and asked to talk- I've been meaning to for a while actually- because I've been wondering why he's only changing teenagers (I mean doesn't that seem weird?) and _Erica_ at that, and I found out but then I accidentally let it slip that we knew he was targeting Boyd and- and then everything went to shit. He sent Erica to you and he sort kidnapped me- not that _that's_ out of the ordinary-"

"Vanessa!" Stiles interrupts suddenly; making me jump and snapping my attention to him once more.

"Right," I sigh with a shake of my head. "Sorry. So he and Isaac kidnapped me and took me to the ice rink and we met up with Erica and- and they started beating up Scott and I _tried_to stop them but I wasn't strong enough… Anyway, when they left I tried to help Scott but he- he accused me of switching sides or _something_ and basically called me a whore and-"

"What?" Stiles yelps.

"It's fine," I dismiss. "He didn't mean it- at least I don't think-I don't know…" I trail off before gasping; suddenly eager to share the information I had managed to gather before all of the mythical drama ensued. "But I know why Derek's choosing who he is; Erica, Isaac, Boyd!"

"Good," Stiles chirps, "if we know the pattern then maybe we can guess who he'll pick next and get to them before-"

"Actually," I cut in, "he's- and I know this sounds crazy- he's picking people who'll benefit from the bite." When Stiles opened his mouth to argue I spoke over him; desperately wanting him to believe me. "No, listen! Stiles, lycanthropy counteracts Erica's epilepsy the same way it did Scott's asthma!"

I watched as his eyes scanned my beaming expression, and I could tell any reluctance Stiles felt about my conclusion slipped away in that moment.

"That's great," Stiles smiled softly.

"I know!" I agreed joyously; buzzing with happiness for my once-ailed friend before blabbing why Derek Hale had chosen Boyd (which the alpha had explained on the drive to his "lair") and Isaac, and just before I could launch into a proclamation about how Scott needed to (for his safety) join Derek's pack, Mom pulled into the Stilinski's driveway; announcing her presence with a honk of the family car's horn.

"Call me," Stiles requested as he walked me to the front door.

"Okay," I nod before standing on my tiptoes to comfortably wrap my arms around his neck in an embrace. "I'm so glad you're alright," I sigh as my eyes flutter closed.

"I'm sorry Scott said those things to you," Stiles replied as he returned the hug. "I know you would never- even if you do have eyes and Derek's gorgeous."

I laugh lightly at the memory of our past conversation while pulling away to leave. "You're better looking," I reassure him with a smile.

"I know," Stiles responds easily; making me laugh once more.

"Thanks," I say while reaching towards the doorknob to my right.

"For what?" he questions with a furrow of his brow.

"For being you," I answer, and my response is a kiss that makes my knees knock together and mind go all fuzzy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I came home to a mug of hot chocolate, my brother's apologetic expression, and homemade brownies proclaiming _I'm sorry_ in white icing- an apology I didn't necessarily accept or deny. Let's just say, as of right now, my twin and I pulled a truce.

After I filled Scott in on everything I already told Stiles and Scott told me about some information (he refused to disclose to just me- which I understood sine repeating things is, for lack of a better term, _repetitive_) he got from Deaton, the sheriff's son and I spoke over the phone until we fell asleep- and even then I awoke to find our call still in session. It brought a smile to my face, and despite how angry Dad would be over the wasted minutes, I couldn't bring myself to hang up until he did.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We'll get through this," I hear Stiles say monotonously to my brother- as if reluctant to get the words he was speaking out. "I know because I love you and-"

"Stiles," I gasp scandalously while bringing my right hand to my heart; clutching it with acted pain, "and here I was, thinking you only had eyes for _me_!"

"Shut up," the sheriff's son snaps before glaring hatefully at Scott. "Okay, that's it- I'm done being your and Allison's messenger boy."

"Aw," I whine while taking the small vacancy on the stair between my boys, "c'mon Stiles; it can't be that bad. I won't tease you anymore- promise."

"You said that this morning," he deadpans in response; making me giggle and nod in concession.

"I know," I laugh. "I just can't help it!"

"Did she say if she's coming to the game tonight?" Scott cuts in urgently with hope in his puppy-dog eyes.

"Yes," Stiles answers shortly with a pout. "Message complete."

I leant over and rested my temple against my boyfriend's shoulder in an attempt to ease his obvious embarrassment before training my eyes on Scotty. "Tell us about what Deaton said," I prompt; eager to change the topic of conversation.

My twin glances around to make sure there are no prying ears, and when he deems the area bug-proof he answers. "He thinks Allison's family keeps some sort of record of things they've hunted in the past. Like a book or something."

"You mean a bestiary," Stiles elaborates.

"A what?" Scott questions, and for once I share his confusion. Neither TVD nor Twilight mentioned bestiaries.

"A bestiary," Stiles repeats.

"I think you mean bestiality," Scott says slowly with a furrowed brow.

"No," Stiles snorts. "A bestiary is like an encyclopedia of mythical creatures. Deaton's right, if the Argents ever came into contact with whatever that thing was it would be in there."

"Maybe Allison and I will snoop after training today," I volunteer.

"Training?" the boys echo while looking curiously down at me.

"Oh," I sigh while straightening out. "Right. You guys don't know."

"Know what?" Scott asks.

"Allison's going to teach me how to fight," I say; reluctant to have this conversation. "Defense and maybe some weapon training if we find one that I take to."

Before they could question me further the bell rang out; signaling the official end of our school day.

"See you at the game," I smile with a wave before scurrying off towards the parking lot, or more accurately, Allison's car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you so much for driving us, Mr. Argent," I simpered sweetly as Gerard shifted the car into park. "I really appreciate it."

"Oh, it's no problem," Beacon Hills' principle replies easily while pulling on his winter cap. "Any friend of Allison's is a friend of mine, after all. Say Vanessa; how's Scott?"

I throw and elaborate lie at Gerard about a lacrosse injury Scott had gotten while practicing with Stiles three days ago (my guard was up about the head Argent witnessing my twin's alarmingly inhumane skills, and anything to throw him off of Scott's supernatural tail was a large comfort) which he would heroically be pushing through for tonight's big game. Gerard then commended my brother's commitment to the school and its team, which then lead to a story about his commitment to his college football team. Apparently he'd been in a similar situation to the one I'd dreamed up for Scott. As I listened to the elderly man rattle on he, as planned, offered Allison his coat when she began to shiver. Once their exchange had ended I politely excused myself for a bathroom break, got to my feet, and was discreetly handed the keys to Gerard's office while locking eyes importantly with Stiles.

Our plan was simple, really. Get the keys (check), get into his office (work in progress), find the bestiary (which I highly doubted would be at the school of all places), and figure out what the new murderous creature terrorizing Beacon Hills is. Stiles masterminded the step-by-step arrangement, as he did most adventures, after Allison and I had come out of Gerard's home-office empty handed once our "training" (which was really just running Allison's usual trail to prepare my stamina for the _actual_ training) was finished.

Let's just say my calves felt like Jell-O, my heart was stuttering wildly with anxiety over getting caught, I'm in desperate need for a shower, and leave it at that.

"We make a pretty good Bonnie and Clyde, huh?"

I look up to Stiles with an eased smile as he throws an arm casually over my shoulder while returning the happy expression.

"Bet your ass we do," I laugh as we approach the building's main office. "Okay," I begin while unlocking Gerard's door, "say the safe word if anyone comes this way."

"And what's the safe word again?" Stiles questions jokingly; making me lash out and slug him (gently) in the arm. "Ouch! Geez, I was kidding."

"I'll be quick," I say; ignoring his falsified pain completely before slipping through the now cracked door.

Two minutes had passed and although I checked (what I thought was) every possible hiding place –obvious and secretive- I knew I would be coming out of Gerard's office empty handed.

"Ahem."

I jumped at the sound of someone's throat clearing, and when I turned around I saw, through wide-eyes, Erica holding Stiles by the ear with a smirk on her pretty face.

"Hey Ness," she greeted cheerfully, "hope you don't mind, but I've got to borrow your boyfriend."

"As long as I get to come," I begin calmly, "and you don't hurt him-"

"I won't," Erica interrupts with a roll of her eyes before she trained them on Stiles' scowling face. "She makes it like I'm gonna murder you sometimes, I swear."

"Just let him go, Eri," I plea. "We'll come with you no problem."

"Fine," she sighs while releasing her pinch on Stiles' reddening ear. "Let's go."

"Why are we willingly following the she-devil again?" Stiles hisses as we trail after Erica; heading towards the school's pool.

"Because we're all on the same side, remember?" I respond with a roll of my eyes. "Now play nice; she bites."

"It's true," Erica calls over her shoulder; a smile in her voice. "Although you might like it."

"No flirting with my boyfriend," I snap with surprising possessiveness.

"Got you to admit you're dating though, didn't it?"

My jaw dropped but before I even had the opportunity to blush we were already face-to-face with Beacon Hills' new alpha.

"Derek," I greet with an irritated purse of my lips. We had reached an agreement of sorts but his brutality on my brother didn't bide well with me.

"Vanessa," he nods curtly, "I figured you would come."

"What is this about, Derek?" I snap; not in the mood to talk in circles.

The alpha trains his eyes on Stiles before pulling an intimidating scowl. "Tell me what you saw last night," he demands.

"No," Stiles replies stubbornly without hesitance.

"Stiles," I begin softly; catching his attention, "just tell him so we can go."

"You should listen to your girlfriend," Derek advises while stretching his fingers threateningly.

Stiles, at my nod of reassurance, began to describe the creature in the same way he had to me, and once he was finished his brow furrowed in confusion at the expressions on the werewolves before us' faces.

"You guys look like you know exactly what I'm talking about," he said as I came to a similar conclusion.

"That's because we do," Erica whispered; her voice trembling with fear as she looked to something just over my and Stiles' shoulders.

And then suddenly Erica was on the ground, Derek was shoving Stiles and I towards the exit, and I was staring into the yellow eyes of the most terrifying beast I'd ever seen.

But then the beast's tail slit the back of Derek's neck, and he was almost instantaneously paralyzed; falling heavily into Stiles' arms.

"Oh my god," I panicked as my eyes scanned the seemingly empty pool house. "Where did it go?"

The next thing I know I'm overridden by the sudden urge to push Stiles and Derek into the pool.

"What the hell Vaness-?!" Stiles begins only for his words to die when the creature, which is on the opposite side of the spacious pool, dips it's hand into the chlorinated water before retracting the appendage with a fearful hiss.

"Vanessa," Derek says with authority, "get in the water."

I set my jaw and gaze deeply into the creature across from me's eyes while shaking my head fractionally.

"I'm going to lead it away," I begin in a low tone, "and then you, Stiles, are going to get Derek out of the pool-"

"Not a chance!" Stiles cuts in, only to be ignored.

"And then you are going to call Scott," I continue while slowly lowering my cellphone onto the diving board to my left, "and all of us are going to make it out of this alive. Got it?"

"No!"

"Good."

"I swear to God if you don't jump into this pool right now, Vanessa, I will let Derek drown and-"

"I'm running on the count of three."

"I will break up with you!"

"One…" I inhale deeply and close my eyes for the briefest of moments.

"Vanessa Marisol McCall-!"

"Two-"

"What the hell is going on in here?" my twin shouts as he bursts into the pool house; his claws at the ready and eyes scanning the area for any threats.

"Oh thank god," I mumble as my shoulders sag in relief before tensing once more at the sound of glass overhead breaking. I watch with wide eyes as the snake-like creature slithers out of a high window and pray it isn't going out to look for its next victim.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was helping a very dazed Erica sit up when Derek informed us what the monster was.

"It's called a Kanima," he says; his voice dark and face pulled into an unattractive scowl.

"You knew the whole time?" I snap angrily while glaring up at the alpha as his beta pulled herself to her feet using the bench beside her.

"No," Derek denies with a shake of his head, "only when it was confused by its reflection."

I think back to the expressed confusion I could scarcely see on the Kanima's face as it peered down into the pool's water and let out a miniscule nod of concession while rising a bit shakily to my feet.

"It doesn't know what it is," Scott assumed; his voice sad and mouth pulled down at the thought.

"Or who," Derek continues.

"What else do you know?" Stiles questions as his eyes narrow accusingly on the alpha before us.

Out of habit I nearly badger the teen to play nice, but I keep my mouth shut thinking now isn't the time or place.

"Just stories and rumors," Derek answers; surprisingly complacent. I guess know that we all know what the attacking creature is/what it looks like he's more desperate to have us on his side than ever before.

"Is it like you guys?" I ask with a furrowed brow.

"A shape shifter?" Derek elaborates before continuing at my nod. "Yes. But it's different, not right, like a- a-"

"An abomination," Stiles finishes; his tone grim at the prospect.

Derek nods in confirmation before he and Erica begin to make their leave.

"Wait!" I call out suddenly- desperate for them to stop.

Erica turns and gives me a questioning look when I don't speak further. I know they (the werewolves) can hear my frantic heartbeats, and Stiles can undoubtedly see the tears pooling in my eyes, but I don't know what I'm asking for. A reassurance that the Kanima will be taken care of? That no other people will die? That no one _I_ know will die?

"We need to work together on this," I breathe while looking to my brother with desperate eyes.

"You're right," Scott nods before turning to face Derek. "We do- and maybe tell the Argents-"

"No!" Derek snaps. "_You_ trust them, Scott. _Not _me."

"Nobody trusts anyone!" my brother explodes as his eyes flash amber with anger. "That's the problem! While we're in here arguing there's something scarier, faster, and stronger than any of us! And it's killing people! We don't even know anything about it-!"

"Oh, I know one thing," Derek cuts in, in an ominous tone that sends shivers down my spine. "When I find it, I'm going to kill it."

There wasn't a bone in my body that doubted his words as I watched the leather clad pair walk away.


	49. Chapter 46

**This is my longest chapter ever! Over 4,000 words; woohoo. I feel as if these chapters will progressively get long and longer- especially in season three when I go AU. Be prepared for a lot of training and more action scenes! Speaking of; there is a badass moment for both Vanessa and Stiles in this chapter so I hope you enjoy. Oh, and thanks to everyone who has added this story to their favorites, follows, or left reviews- I really appreciate it! **

**Chapter Forty-Six**

"So," I begin conversationally while taking my new seat beside Stiles at our newly claimed lunch table, "I guess the police dropped the charges against Isaac."

When the blue-eyed werewolf walked into class today I'd nearly had an aneurism. My pure shock and panic had only turned more profound when Isaac singled me out and took the vacant seat beside me with a smirk and nod; seemingly pleased by my gaping expression. We didn't have the opportunity to converse, however, because Mrs. Briggs had already launched into a monotonous lecture that even _I_ couldn't bring myself to listen to.

"Yeah," Stiles nods before taking a crude bite out of his bologna sandwich. "Apparently Jackson went to the station last night and swore up and down he hadn't heard Isaac fighting with his dad the night he died. There was no evidence so…" he trails off and shrugs before giving me a sweet smile and kissing my forehead tenderly. "Hey."

"Hi," I reply softly before clearing my throat to dispel my obvious fluster. "Any ideas as to why Jackson did that?"

"Derek," Scott answers simply; his lips pursed and eyes burning with anger.

I groan and pick at my lunch idly. "Oh _god._ What did he do?"

"The usual," Stiles picks up. "Threatened, kidnapped, and, oh yeah, paralyzed him using the Kanima's venom."

"What?" I yelp with wide eyes.

"It was a test," Scott says, "to find out if it was him."

"And?" I prompt.

"He's not it," Stiles shakes his head in denial.

"But who else could it be?" I muse anxiously while chewing the right corner of my lip.

"You're not gonna like this," Scott begins while leaning forward slightly; obviously uncomfortable.

"_Who?_" I press sternly.

"Well let's think," Stiles begins with a nervous tick of his shoulder, "who was recently bit, didn't shift, and has been acting bat-shit crazy since Winter Formal?"

"It isn't Lydia!" I snap as my eyes go wide with the revelation. "It _isn't!_"

"But it probably is," Scott sighs while laying a hand comfortingly on my own.

"No!" I deny sharply while retracting the appendage jerkily. "Lydia isn't the Kanima!" I hiss.

"And how do you know that, huh?" Stiles questions. "C'mon, Nessa, think this through-"

"I just _know_, okay?" I cut in angrily. "Just like I knew to push you into the pool, just like I know whenever something bad is going to happen- I just _know_!"

As I glare up at Stiles' face, his softens in obvious pity.

"Vanessa I know she's your friend but-"

"But nothing," I interrupt while gathering my things and shoving them angrily into my book bag. "She isn't the Kanima. I believe that, and I'm telling you that I believe that, but _you_'re not believing me the way you should so-"

"And why should I blindly think what you think?" Stiles cuts in with agitation.

"Guys," Scott begins sternly; trying to defuse my and Stiles' tension.

"Because I believed you when you showed up at my doorstep claiming that my brother is a freakin' _werewolf_, that's why!" I whisper-shout while getting to my feet. "Because that's what you do when you- actually, y'know what? Forget it. Lydia isn't the Kanima. Chase whatever dead ends you guys want. I'm heading to the library."

And with that, I was out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As I walked towards my economic class, which had been switched with Chemistry do to the new semester's schedule change, I couldn't help but wonder if this constituted as my and Stiles' first fight as a couple. The prospect scared me. I didn't mind arguments when we were just friends- friends fight all of the time but _couples?_ Couples break up. And I know it was stupid for me to think Stiles would dump me because of our disagreement but… but I couldn't help it. I mean, this is how it starts right? You argue, they find someone new, and the next thing you know you're a single mother raising two children on a mediocre income with an ex-husband who has enough money to take trips to Boca or Cuba or where-the-fuck-ever but skips out on child support just because he can.

Okay brain, now would be a pretty good time to not be filled with teenage angst and project my father's infidelity on Stiles.

"You just gonna stand in the doorway all day or actually move?" Jackson snaps from behind me; taking me by surprise and making me jump at the sudden sound.

"Sorry," I mumble while shuffling to the back of Finstock's classroom to take a seat beside Lydia.

"Trouble in paradise?" the strawberry blonde questions loudly enough for Stiles and Scott to look over to our direction.

I swallow and momentarily lock eyes with my boyfriend before looking down to my fumbling hands and give a miniscule nod to Lydia. "Something like that."

"Alright," Coach Finstock begins importantly; gathering the class' attention, "quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like say _McCall_," he gave my brother a very pointed look as Scott smiled guiltily back at the teacher, "might want to begin their own study groups because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult even I don't know if I could pass it."

Well that's reassuring.

"Okay, so first question. Female McCall; you're up!"

I grudgingly got to my feet and answered the first question written on the blackboard thoroughly but simply before walking briskly back to my seat; eyes averted as to not see Stiles on my trek back. Not that I wouldn't stare longingly at the back of his head once I was seated, anyway.

Sigh.

"Jackson!" Coach Finstock barks; making me jump and look to the man with wide eyes. It was only then did I realize Stiles, Scott, and Jackson had their bodies angled to each other and were hosting a powwow; no doubt exchanging insults and ideas about the Kanima. "Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

"Uh," Jackson fumbles, "just my undying admiration for my coach."

Finstock smiles, and for a moment I believe it's genuine. "That's real kind of you, now _shut up!_ Copy Vanessa's answer down, people, the midterm is tomorrow! Next question… Lydia Martin; your turn."

"He only picks us because we're the only two in this whole damn school that uses their brain," Lydia mumbles to me before she struts confidently up to the board; leaving a chortling me behind.

How could Derek, or anyone for that manner, think Lydia is the Kanima? She acts perfectly normal around me- or okay, not _totally_ (the whole spouting blood curdling screams at the ice rink wasn't exactly an Average Joe thing to do) but she'd been put through some pretty serious stuff so far this school year.

Come to think of it, whatever traumatic experience I had been in Lydia had been there too. The night at the school, the night at Blockbuster, Winter Formal… and she didn't _see_ as much gore and horror as I did of it but Lydia didn't even have an explanation as to why any of those things happened. Hell, she didn't even have the reassurance that Peter Hale, the cause of all of Beacon Hill's past melodrama, was dead!

"Okay," Finstock began slowly while eyeing a trembling Lydia curiously, "anyone wanna try answering this in _English_?"

I peered over my friend's shoulder to find large, block-like scrawl and tears in her eyes. Not thinking of the consequences I grabbed both my and Lydia's bags, grabbed her by the arm, and hightailed it out of Finstock's classroom; not bothering to give rhyme nor reason for our sudden departure.

"Lydia," I breathe while pulling the crying girl into a nearby bathroom, "what's wrong? What's going on? C'mon Lydi, talk to me here!"

"I don't know," Lydia sobs while sliding down the bathroom's tiled wall. "I don't know! I-I'm scared and confused all of the time I just- I don't know!"

"It's okay," I coo while kneeling beside my longtime friend and laying a hand on her shaking shoulder. "I understand-"

"No you don't! You don't get it- what it's like to be inside of my head all of the time! That man he- he's always _there_ he's always _scaring me_ but I have to do what he says I have to-!" She breaks off into a fit of sobs and begins talking so quickly and in fragmented sentences I can't keep up. And so I simply pull her into a hug and rock us back and forth until she stops crying, which does not happen for a seemingly long time.

"Here," I say while offering Lydia my pack of makeup remover. "You look like a panda right now," I then add on with a joking smile.

"Well you don't even match, so," Lydia snaps back while distastefully eyeing my outfit and taking the outstretched bag. After a moment of fixing her streaked face Lydia turns to me with a soft smile and softer eyes. "Thanks, Vanessa."

"Anytime."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lydia and I entered Harris' chemistry lab with our hands clasped together and heads held high. I glared at anyone who looked to the blonde before whispering scandalously to their friends as we took a seat at a faraway table, but before I could verbally snap at the gossips Mr. Harris began his usual insulting monologue.

"Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite; universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the universe.' I myself have encountered infinite stupidity," I watched through livid eyes as Harris condescendingly patted Stiles' shoulder; an obvious dig, "and so to combat the plague of ignorance in my class you're going to pair off and combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are truly better than one. Or, in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one."

And there is my perpetual hate for Mr. Harris; flaring up uncontrollably and without restraint. Fuck you, Mr. Harris. _Fuck you._

"Erica, you'll be taking the first station with-" almost all of the boys' in the lab's hands skyrocketed; irritating Mr. Harris visibly. "I didn't ask for volunteers; put your hormonal hands down. Erica you'll be starting with Mr. McCall."

I glumly waited for my name to be called, and when it came I was paired (thankfully) with Danny- which instantaneously brought a smile to my face.

"Danny!" I greeted cheerfully as he took the now vacant seat beside me.

"Hey," he singsonged in response while looking to the blackboard and Mr. Harris' almost illegible instructions.

We chat about miscellaneous things as we work; some of our favorite articles on Rookie Mag, The Vampire Diaries' heartbreaking episode yesterday, lacrosse, and his current boyfriend before I watch the Latino move on to his next partner with a slightly disappointed frown on my face.

Stupid Harris and his stupid rotations.

"You still mad?"

I sigh and look up to see Stiles gazing anxiously at me while taking a seat on the stool to my left.

"About the fact that you don't trust my judgment?" I question before sarcastically answering, "No, not at all."

We work for the next few moments in tense silence, before I let my word vomit get the better of me.

"You're not stupid," I blurt once we've completed the second stage. "You're actually really smart and nice and funny- and Mr. Harris is a total dick who shouldn't try to make you feel bad about yourself just because he can. And I'm sorry for being mad at you but I am and that's how I feel and I can't change that and-"

"Switch!" Mr. Harris interrupts.

When Stiles doesn't move I avert eye contact and glance down to the beaker sitting between us. "You should go," I say. "Don't want Lucifer handing out another detention."

"Right," he breathes in response before taking the vacant seat beside Matt.

I heave out a sad sigh and look up patiently for my new partner, only to scowl at the sight of Jackson.

"Ooh, what's the matter?" he questions. "You and Second String having problems alread-?"

"Go to hell, Jackson," I snap.

"Testy," the lacrosse star tsks in response. When I don't reply we finish adding chemicals to the beaker in silence. "So," he begins after a moment conversationally, "you don't think Lydia's the Kanima."

"She isn't," I hiss angrily while glaring daggers his way.

"Yeah, well she isn't a werewolf but she got bit, didn't she?" Jackson seethes back.

"The same could be said about you," I scowl.

"I passed Derek's stupid test," he replies. "But will Lydia?"

"What do you mean?" I ask while leaning back in surprise. How was Derek planning on testing Lydia when she was completely clueless to the supernatural world?

"If you catalyzed the reaction correctly you should now be looking at a crystal," Mr. Harris announces. Sure enough, there is a crystal sitting at the bottom of my beaker. "Now, for the last part of the experiment- one I'm sure you'll all enjoy. You can eat it."

I carefully retracted the crystal from our beaker before breaking it in half; handing one to Jackson but keeping the other for myself. Neither one of us, however, took a bite.

"What do you mean?" I repeat sternly.

"Look who her partner is," Jackson replies while nodding towards his ex's general direction.

"How is Isaac going to-?"

"Lydia!" my brother shouts suddenly while jumping to his feet.

"What?" said girl snaps back in response before taking a bite out of her crystal.

"The crystal's covered with saliva," Jackson informs me softly as we watch Lydia anxiously for any of the poison's side effects.

My stomach fills with lead when there are none.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Don't talk to me," I snap in a panicked tone while trying to dodge my brother and Stiles. My chest is rising and falling erratically and I know if I don't calm down now I'll launch into a panic attack.

"Vanessa, oh my god," Scott begins while grabbing my upper arm and looking down to me with great concern. "Oh my god, Vanessa, seriously, your heart is beating way too fast right now."

"It's not her," I say; my tone hitched as my hands begin to tremble. My vision swims and knees buckle, but Scott's grip on my arm is firm and keeps me (somewhat) upright.

"I believe you," Stiles assures me while reaching out to cup the side of my face with a cool hand.

"No," I deny with a frantic and desperate shake of my head. "No you don't but it isn't her I swear-!"

"Let's talk somewhere else," Scott interrupts while looking towards Coach Finstock's vacant office.

I simply allow the boys to drag me down the hall without complaint, only to find Allison waiting patiently with an anxious look on her pretty face.

"It isn't Lydia," I blurt while turning my eyes hopefully on Allison; a fellow best friend of the strawberry blonde. _She_ would surely believe me, right?

"Derek's outside waiting for her," Scott announces not a second later.

"Waiting for her, or waiting to _kill_ her?" Allison questions.

I inhale sudden, sharp breath at the thought.

"If he thinks she's the Kanima, yes. Especially after what happened at the pool," Scott replies.

"But it isn't her!" I protest while clenching my shaking fists in anger.

"She didn't pass the test," Scott sighs with an apologetic frown. "Nothing happened."

"As long as Derek thinks it's her then she's as good as dead," Stiles cuts in.

"Then we have to change his mind," I say.

"How about we keep Lydia away from him until we can prove it isn't her?" Allison suggests; her tone hopeful.

"The study group," I mumble with a smile. "That's it! He won't pull anything in the school- not with Gerard as principle. We'll just keep her in the library-"

"And find something in the bestiary that proves Lydia isn't the Kanima," my brother's girlfriend finishes while sharing my happy grin.

"You found the bestiary?" I question in surprise.

"Yeah," she nods in response before pulling a displeased grimace. "Only thing is-"

"It's a nine-hundred page book written in Archaic Latin," Stiles finishes grimly.

"I know someone who might be able to translate it," Allison dismisses. "Don't worry about that. Just keep Lydia _in the school_ until 3 o'clock. That's all I need."

"I'll talk to Derek," Scott volunteers. "See if he'll give us the chance to prove it isn't her. If anything happens you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"I can take care of myself," Allison announces while pulling her crossbow out of her gym bag.

_Badass._

"You can't heal like I do," my twin replies concernedly while looking down to his girlfriend with uncomfortably expressive eyes.

I look down to my cellphone and text Lydia to meet me at the school library ASAP because it's her fault we missed Econ.'s review. She replies with a biting remark but tells me she'll be there; she just has to meet with Beacon Hills High's new guidance counselor first.

"I'm going," I announce while sliding my phone into my back pocket. "Good luck," I say to Allison and Scott before turning on my heel to leave- only to narrowly dodge an arrow from grazing the point of my nose.

"Sensitive trigger on that, huh?" Stiles chuckles before carefully placing Allison's crossbow back onto Coach Finstock's desk.

I smile despite myself and let out a soft laugh while offering my hand to him. "C'mon Clyde," I prompt while nodding towards the door.

"Ooh," Stiles begins while taking the outstretched appendage as he raises his brow suggestively, "I like it when we role-play."

"Shut up."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Lydia!" I call out while letting Stiles' hand slip out of my grasp to jog towards the blonde-headed girl.

"I see you and Stiles made up," Lydia smirks. "Is he studying with us-?"

"Actually," I begin while glancing over her shoulder to the oncoming Jackson and Allison duo, "they all are."

"What?" Lydia snaps after narrowing her eyes momentarily on her ex. "Why?"

"Because Jackson's a dumbass and he needs our help?" I excuse feebly in a questioning tone.

"Fine," she huffs. "Let's just go to the library and get this over-"

"_Actually_," I interrupt while clasping Lydia's upper arm and begin walking her over to Stiles, "we're going to my house."

"_Why_?"

"Because Scott's even more hopeless thank Jackson and needs our help too," I answer.

"But why can't he just meet us in the-?"

"Lydia," Jackson snaps while roughly grabbing said girl by her free arm, "just shut up and _walk_."

Stiles laid a comforting hand on the small of my back and guided me after the stumbling couple as Allison and I shared a tense glance. This was going to be a _long_ afternoon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Okay, we're here," Lydia begins in an irritated tone as we walk up my house's driveway, "where's your brother?"

"On his way," I answer seamlessly while unlocking the front door before ushering our party in.

I watch with mild amusement as Stiles locks all four of the front door's locks before propping a wayward chair underneath the doorknob just for added measure.

"You're boyfriend's paranoid," Lydia announces while eyeing Stiles questioningly, "and weird."

"I know," I sigh while dumping my backpack onto my kitchen table.

"Lydia," Jackson begins; catching everyone's attention, "why don't you follow me?" He nods off further into the house; obviously indicating whatever they needed to discuss required privacy. "I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Use my bedroom," I offer while giving the confused girl a weak smile.

"Ugh," Lydia sighs while following after her ex-boyfriend with forced distaste. I knew on the inside she was jumping for joy. I just hoped that whatever Jackson had to say to her was good. I couldn't handle Lackson/Jydia drama on top of everything else.

"Uh, Vanessa, Allison," Stiles began hesitantly as he peered out of my kitchen's bay window, "we've got company."

"Erica," I breathed while looking out at said blonde. At her smile and wave I knew even from our distance she could hear me. I squared my shoulders in determination as Allison walked into the living room and retracted her crossbow from the gym bag she'd carried in. "Are you here for Lydia?" I question without breaking my gaze from my once-timid friend's.

She nodded in response, and for a moment my eyes flickered down to Isaac's lengthening claws and Boyd's clenching fists. I vaguely registered the sound of Allison calling my brother for backup; my sole focus keeping the werewolves standing post outside of my house away from Lydia.

"I won't let you take her," I say as my heart stutters wildly.

Erica gives me a sad smile before mouthing, '_I know_,' in response.

"It doesn't have to be like this," I protest in a shaking voice as Stiles lays his arm across my shoulders.

Erica does not give me any kind of response this time, although there's a silent _yes it does_ that goes unsaid.

Derek reaches the house before Scott does.

His arrival simultaneously sends me into a panic and calms my nerves. The alpha and I had some sort of understanding- or at least much more of an understanding than he did with Scott. Perhaps I could talk to him; convince him or at the very least stall him until my brother arrives.

"I'm going outside," I announce while slipping into a light jacket before heading towards the door; not waiting for approval from my companions.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Stiles shouts while grabbing my forearm; locking me momentarily in place. "No you're not."

"You can't tell me what to do," I say.

"Do you have a death wish, Vanessa, or are you really just that stupid?"

I rip myself from Stiles grasp and sneer up at him, "I guess I'm just that stupid."

"Guys," Allison cuts in; her voice shaking from tears and fear, "where did Isaac go?"

"Get your crossbow," I whisper while clenching my hands into fists and going over what little basics Allison had taught me yesterday during training in my mind.

The hunter raises her weapon at the window she's stationed at beside my front door, and although I want to look and see if there's anyone coming my feet pivot me on their own accord; driving by that sixth sense of mine.

I block Isaac's hit without really thinking about it. Our forearms crash together so forcefully I'm surprised my bones don't shatter on impact. There is a moment I swell with pride (I had _done_ something- I had protected myself against a freaking _werewolf_!) but it quickly fades when Isaac, with a snarl, grabs my shoulders and throws me into Allison's back like a ragdoll. The sensation is so similar to how Peter had sent me flying that night at the video store that my mind reels at the horrible sense of déjà vu.

"Don't!" I protest as Isaac slams Stiles harshly down onto the hardwood floors. I turn away from the assault and lock teary eyes with Allison. "Make sure Lydia stays upstairs," I order before getting to my feet, grabbing a decorative vase from a side table, and smashing it over Isaac's feral head.

It was a very good plan in theory (get Isaac's attention away from Stiles) but in reality I ended up being pushed against my living room wall in a _very_ tight chokehold.

Shit.

"Don't _touch_ her!" Stiles roars before sucker punching the transformed werewolf right in the back of the head.

Isaac's grip loosened immediately, and I fell to the floor in a gasping heap.

"Guys!" Allison's panicked voice called out from the kitchen as Isaac moved out of my line of vision. "It's here!"

_It?_ Oh my god… the Kanima!

"Allison!" I heard my brother cry as he barreled down the staircase to join his girlfriend in the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" Stiles questions as he kneels before me; reaching out his hands which hover just over my heaving shoulders as if they're afraid to touch me.

"You saved me," I gasp with wide eyes while massaging my sore neck.

Stiles smiles softly down to me before responding, "You saved me first."

I know what you're thinking, Vanessa this is a completely inappropriate time to kiss your completely adorable/sexy boyfriend- there are werewolves and a Kanima running willy-nilly around your home and your best friend is sitting upstairs probably scared out of her mind, but y'know what? Screw you. Screw you because Stiles Stilinski, the boy who I've liked since grade eight and my current boyfriend, just punched a goddamn werewolf in the back of the head for me, and I think _that_ deserves much more than a kiss. But alas, for now we would have to settle.

... Although, I'm not complaining. Settling sure can be fun; especially when it's with Stiles.


	50. Chapter 47

**Ah! This story has just broken the 30,000 view barrier, passed 100 follows, and 70 favorites all in the past couple of days! Thanks so much for your support, and as a treat there is a preview at the end of this chapter for when Stiles and Vanessa (finally) say they love each other! Also as another 'thank you' I'll be posting the next chapter either later tonight or around noon tomorrow- so look out for that. Also, what do you think of Vanessa's change of faceclaim? I really like the picture in this story's banner for Vanessa's character (the actress' name is Rachel Bilson), but tell me your thoughts on the manner! Enjoy and please, leave a review!**

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

"I see now why you keep denying me, Scott," Derek began as he stared in acceptance towards my brother. "You're not an omega; you're an alpha… the alpha of your own pack."

I glared down at Erica with pursed lips as Derek's words set in. As much as I resented the notion, he was right. Stiles, Allison, and I may not be werewolves but we were pack- only in our own way. And besides, I reasoned while looking away from the paralyzed blonde sprawled out across my front lawn's freshly mowed grass, I wouldn't want my brother to follow the orders Derek gave his betas. I'd almost always held the belief the last living Hale was a good guy, I still do really, but he was too impulsive when it came to handling delicate situations.

A hissing noise suddenly sounded out from our roof, and when I turned my heel to look I saw the Kanima glaring down at us through narrowed, yellow eyes. When I blinked it was already gone, with Derek not too far behind; barking out an order for Boyd to take Erica and Isaac back to the station.

"Would someone like to explain to me what the hell is going on?" Lydia shouts while stomping down the McCall house's stairs; her heeled shoes making cringe worthy _clanks_ the whole way down.

"It's Jackson," I whisper; shocked at the realization.

"We've got to go," Scott blurts while taking me by the upper arm.

"I'll make sure Lydia gets home alright," Allison volunteers as I'm dragged towards Stiles' newly repaired Jeep.

"But-" I begin; not wanting to abandon Lydia in her time of confusion, only to be silenced by the car door slamming shut beside my brother- closing us off from the outside world. "Lydia needs me!" I exclaim as Stiles shifts the car into reverse.

"You can't tell her, Vanessa," Scott orders with a firm shake of his head. "Not about werewolves or the Kanima or-"

"Don't take Derek's words too seriously, Scott," I sneer, "you're _not_ the boss of me."

"Now is not the time to be fighting!" Stiles panics as his hands slap against the wheel in a nervous tick. "Scott, get your furry head out of my car's window and sniff around because we need to find Jackson before he kills anymore people!"

And so Scott became your average Golden Retriever as I rolled my eyes, shuffled closer to my boyfriend, and turned up the Jeep's static-filled radio along with its heat because despite early February's humidity the thought of Lydia going home tonight confused and scared left me colder than I had ever felt.

I'm a horrible friend.

"Hey," Stiles began; his voice gravely and comforting as his left hand encircled my right, "it'll be okay."

"I know," I exhale shakily while lacing my fingers with his, "but will Lydia?"

"Turn left," Scott ordered over the wind's deafening howl.

Stiles did so and said in a voice so honest and utterly _him_, "We'll figure it out."

As I looked up to his profile and attempted to count each of the eyelashes I could see fanning out from his iced-coffee orbs, the very same ones that had looked back to me every time I closed my eyes since that day at the lake when he promised to never let me drown, I was overcome with the urge to blurt out the three words I rarely ever said. The 'I love you' was so close to escaping my lips I hardly had the opportunity to catch it before the confession escaped.

I knew it was the wrong time to analyze my emotions. We were chasing after a supernatural serial killer who just so happened to be one of our oldest (and I'm using the term loosely here) "friends" after all, but this moment had only been the second time I'd ever associated love with Stiles and it was just as much of a shock as it had been that night in the school.

_Love_? Did I mean that? Do I truly love Stiles?

His hand tightened momentarily for on mine as he turned down another alleyway upon my brother's instruction, and as my heart fluttered I knew my question had just been answered.

I'm in love with Stiles. I am hopelessly, endlessly, and wholly in love with Fearganainm "Stiles" Rupert Stilinski… and it doesn't scare me quite as much as I thought it would.

"What do we do now?" Stiles questions as the Jeep comes to a relatively sharp stop before a chain-link fence.

I turn to look to my brother for answers only to find him climbing out of the car's window; seemingly ditching both the Jeep and us.

"Awesome," I huff as Stiles and I watch Scott scale the fence before sprinting onward; not even bothering to throw a 'see ya!' over his shoulder.

"We could make out, maybe?" Stiles suggests.

I laugh, kiss his cheek, and then reach into the Jeep's back seat in search of the window-scraper I know he keeps there.

"As much fun as that sounds," I begin while opening the passenger's side door; heavy tool in hand, "I've got a better idea."

It took me a total of seven hits to the surprisingly rusted lock holding the chain-linked barrier to break it, and as the gate swung open; allowing the Jeep, Stiles, and I access, I don't think I've ever felt more badass- especially since Stiles gaped open-mouthed at me as I reentered the vehicle and chucked his window-scraper back into the other half of the car.

"Are you sure you don't wanna make out because that was really hot?"

"Shut up," I chuckle, and he joins in with a breathy, yet slightly uneasy, laugh of his own.

"Right," Stiles nods. "Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Do something!" Stiles hissed while batting flirtatious Drag Queen's hands away from his twitching body.

I was so far gone I could barely _breathe _through my hysterical laughter, let alone verbally deny his request.

Somehow Scott, Stiles, and I had found ourselves in _Outhouse_ which, no, is not a steakhouse but instead a gay club with impressive strobe lights and rocking dance music.

"Is that- is that _Danny?_" my twin spluttered while looking off incredulously into the crowd of dancing, shirtless, and incredibly attractive men.

My eyes scanned the club for said boy only to catch sight of the Kanima (or Jackson, really) scaling a support beam.

"Kanima, nine o'clock!" I whispered harshly to my brother before turning to grab Stiles by the hand and pull him over with me; effectively saving him from the transgender's artfully crafted acrylics. "Sorry girls," I apologize with a smile, "this one's taken."

There was a coo of complaints that made me smirk and Stiles hiss a sharp 'shut up!' as I lead my boyfriend away from the queen's and after my tracking brother.

"Nessa?" Danny shouted over the pounding music as he reached out to grab my upper arm.

As a result of my halting the boys and I were immediately separated by a wall of shimmying bodies.

"What are you doing here?" Danny questions; a pure confusion coating his chiseled features.

"Can't a girl go gay-clubbing on a Wednesday night?" I ask rhetorically while sifting through the crowd for any sight of Stiles or Scott.

It happens so quickly I'm on the ground before I even register being cut on the back of my neck. I try to release a string of curses when Danny's alarmingly heavy body fell atop of mine, but all that could come out was a long, pained moan that Danny echoed.

Screams filled the air; drowning out the dance music and overpowering the blinding, pulsating lights. I clenched my eyes shut and focused on my frantic breathing- which was rapidly quickening due to the panic I felt; brought on by my sudden paralysis.

My eyes watered when I thought of how Stiles had experienced this same feeling not too long ago, completely alone, whilst being forced to watch a man die only a few feet away, and I wanted nothing more than to run to my boyfriend, kiss him, and tell him I am so, _so_ sorry for not being there when he needed me.

By the time the ambulance arrived I had regained my ability to speak. Unfortunately this only helped with explaining to Mr. Stilinski what exactly I was doing at a gay club when I am A) a female, B) not legally old enough to get into the Outback, C) heterosexual, and D) dating his heterosexual son.

Lots of complicated lies were told through crocodile tears until eventually the man just sighed, patted my head, and told me he would tell his son where I was and what had happened. I'd agreed under the false hope Mr. Stilinski wouldn't run into Stiles whilst said boy and my brother were still somewhere nearby.

On the upside: at least now I have the time to overanalyze my feelings for Stiles.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After Mom had picked me up from the hospital and was reassured I was alright aside from the toxins that were still leaving my body, we drove home in tense silence. I wasn't sure what I did wrong exactly, or if it was her Perry-Menopause kicking in, but I kept my lips pressed firmly close together in the fear of losing my tongue if I dared to speak.

"Would you like to tell me why I came home to find Uncle Ernesto's vase smashes all over our living room floor?" Mom suddenly questioned as we turned down our block.

"Uh…" I began uncertainly while tiredly wiping my eyes, "no?"

We pulled into the driveway and parked in silence.

"Alright," she sighs in defeat. "Fine. And how about the fact you skipped your appointment with Dr. Franks yesterday?"

My eyes widened at the mention of my therapist and the realization I had missed our Tuesday schedule.

"Oh my god!" I gasped. "I completely forgot! Mom, you've got to believe me I am _so_ sorry-!"

"Don't apologize to me, Vanessa," Mom interrupts. "Apologize to Dr. Franks and to your father; it's their time and money you're wasting."

"Mom-"

"And you're grounded! No going out this weekend, and no that does not mean you can have people come to the house. Do you understand?"

I gaped open-mouthed at my livid mother for a moment before nodding numbly; accepting her punishment without complaint. It would be the first time I was grounded since Dad was still around, but quite honestly not the first time I had deserved it.

"Good," Mom nodded. "Now get inside, go up to your room, and I'll call you down when dinner's done."

I followed her orders without uttering a word of protest because, quite honestly, I was too surprised to.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you sure you're alright?"

I rolled my eyes at Stiles repeated question; thankful he couldn't see the smile on my face that was negating my faked annoyance.

"For the billionth time, Stiles," I whispered into the cellphone pressed to my ear, "_yes_."

"When my dad told me you got hurt- God, you don't even know," Stiles breathed; his voice shaking with emotion.

"I'm fine," I assure him softly. "Stiles, I promise you I'm fine."

"I just got so scared when we got separated that something happened and then my dad tells me it did and I just thought 'Oh my god I'm leaving her again while she's hurt' and just, what kind of boyfriend am I, y'know? I left you at Winter Formal, I left you tonight, I-"

"_You_," I interrupt sternly while glancing at my digital clock, "are a wonderful boyfriend. Don't blame yourself for what happened tonight- and do _not_ blame yourself for what happened at Formal. It isn't your fault, I swear to God Stiles none of this is your fault."

For a few moments the only sound I could hear was static.

"I just care about you so much, you know? So much."

"Stiles-" I begin in a choked voice.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm keeping you up. Get some sleep, okay? Goodnight."

"Wait!" I demand sharply. "Stiles I… I care about you too. So much. It's kind of scary how much, actually."

I heard him inhale shakily before replying, "Night, Vanessa."

"Goodnight."

Although it was Stiles' intentions for me to go to sleep, it wasn't until 3 o'clock that my mind finally stopped replaying his recap of the night (Jackson's kidnapping; the whole shebang) and his heartfelt words, and allowed me to fall into a peaceful sleep filled with iced-coffee eyes and soft-spoken confessions.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I ducked Allison's swinging heel and spun out only for my attempt to be blocked skillfully.

"Good try," the youngest Argent praises while raising her first.

I only _just_ block the punch barreling towards my left cheek, and although my pride doesn't let me ask I'm pretty sure the only reason that hit didn't connect was because Allison pulled back.

"So," I begin breathlessly while attempting to strike Allison once more, "I think I'm in love with Stiles."

The only reason why that kick landed was because of my brother's girlfriend's obvious shock.

"What?" Allison wheezed while lashing out and going for my right calf (the area she'd earlier deemed my 'weak spot').

"I'm in love with Stiles," I say.

The words come out much easier than I expected them to, and for a moment I'm amazed at how right they feel while being spoken.

_I'm in love with Stiles._ It felt like a fact. _Plants produce oxygen. The sky today is overcast. It is four o'clock in the afternoon. I'm in love with Stiles._

"That's great! Amazing!" Allison congratulates elatedly as we continue our defensive dance. "Have you told him, yet?"

"No," I pant while trying to shake a stray, dampened lock of hair out of my eyes. "It's too soon."

"To say you're in love him," she begins, "or to _be_ in love with him?"

I duck a punch before answering reluctantly, "Both, I guess."

"It's never too soon-"

_Ring! Ring!_

"Hold that thought," I pant while jogging over to my cellphone and water bottle; both of which were sitting gracefully on a rotting tree stump. "Hello?"

"Vanessa?" Mom questions. "Vanessa, where the hell are you?"

My eyes widen at the sound of her irate tone.

"Mom!" I greet with false cheer. "I'm uh- I'm at Allison's house."

"What part of 'grounded' didn't you understand?"

"Well you said I couldn't go out this _weekend_," I begin meekly. "And today's only Thursday so-"

"Y'know what?" Mom interrupts. "Forget it. Just forget it. Be ready to be picked up, Nessa; I'm on my way."

My phone beeps, alerting me she's ended the call, and I turn to Allison with wide, fearful eyes.

"We gotta get back to your house," I say. "_Now_. Like, _right now_."

"What?" Allison questions breathlessly while wiping at her sweat-soaked brow. "Why?"

"Because I'm grounded and my mom is going to skin me alive!" I panic while sprinting off towards the direction in which we came. "C'mon!" I call over my shoulder while tripping up slightly over a tree root.

Dammit. Dammit _all_!

**Preview!**

"…**when all of this melodrama with the Kanima and Argents and everything is over, what do you see happening?"**

"**I see…" I begin while pushing myself upwards to sit kindergartener-style, "I see you and me. And we're in the Jeep listening to that indie station you really like, and the windows are down, and it's summer. We're going to- to the lake! We're going to the lake because that's where I first realized I liked you, and it's our six-month anniversary or something and we're just like 'Half a year already, huh?' because we can't believe how fast time is going.**

"**And you say something that makes me laugh because that's just what you do, and we grab each other's hands because… because it's like every time I'm not touching you it's all I can think about doing. And then some song comes on that we both really like, and I'll look to you and watch you look at the road and think 'Oh my god, this is really happening' because I just can't believe someone as amazing as you would ever want to be with someone like me."**

**I blink my tearing eyes and flush at the realization I'd just word-vomited horrendously before looking down to Stiles fearfully with a quivering, apologetic, and shameful grin.**

"**Sorry," I whisper apologetically while dusting away a stray tear. "That most have sounded really stupid-"**

"**No, no, no!" Stiles denies quickly while sitting up and taking my tear-dampened hand into his own. "That was the farthest thing from stupid, Vanessa. I- it actually makes me feel a lot better about… about what I want to uh- to tell you."**

"**And what do you want to tell me?" I ask; my voice so quiet and trembling I'm surprise he can even hear it.**


	51. Chapter 48

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

When Mom pulls the car into Beacon Hills' first precinct my brow skyrockets in surprise. She'd been pretty angry at my bending of the rules, sure, but pressing charges on me was too ridiculous of a notion for us to be here because of _that_.

"What are we-?" I begin, only to silence at her stone cold glare.

Okay, so maybe now isn't the time to question her decisions. I simply unbuckle, grab my water bottle, and follow her into the redbrick building crawling with law enforcement with my lips pressed firmly together.

"Wait here," Mom orders before turning down the interrogation room's hallway.

I sigh, take a seat, and gulp the remaining water in my eco-friendly container before wandering over to the precinct's water-fountain to refill the plastic cylinder. For the next few minutes I pass the time by reading town notices; things about fundraisers and upcoming events, your standard missing dog and person posters before the sound of my mother's scolding tone catches more short attention.

"… A restraining order is a new low I didn't think you'd reach quite this soon!"

"Restraining order?" I echo with surprise while looking to Scott wide-eyed.

"I thought I told you to wait back there," Mom snaps while turning her livid gaze to me.

"You did," I nod in concession, "but I figure I'm in such deep trouble what's a couple of more rules broken?"

"The disobedience!" Mom explodes. "The strange behavior from the two of you, late nights coming home, and having to beg Mr. Harris, Scott, for you to make up the Chemistry test you missed!"

"I missed a Chemistry test?" my twin question in obvious surprise.

I groan internally while face-palming at my brother's pure, innocent, and unfortunately real stupidity. Just dig us in a little deeper, why don't you?

"That's it; that is _it!_ The both of you are grounded!"

"But what about work?" Scott whines.

"Other than work," Mom amends before narrowing her eyes threateningly on me. "Volunteering does not count as work, Vanessa."

"But-" I begin futilely, only to be cut short.

"And no TV!"

"The TV's broken anyway," Scott sighs.

"Then no computers!"

"But we need those for school," I say.

"Then no-no…" Mom struggles to come up with a suitable punishment and glances around the hallway only for her eyes to light up at the sight of Stiles. "No Stiles!"

"Wha- no Stiles?" said boy yelps while lurching forwards towards our trio.

"No Stiles!" Mom repeats ruefully before holding out her hand and demanding Scott give her his car key.

My twin did as asked, but not without an unpleasant grumble, and as she pockets the metal her face softens apologetically.

"Look you guys, I don't like punishing you but the way you've been acting lately…"

"It's alright, Mom," I acknowledge softly while looking down to the speckled tiled floor. "We kind of deserve it."

"Is this about the wedding?" Mom asks after a hesitant pause; much to my surprise.

"Who's wedding?" I ask while looking back up to her aging eyes.

"You didn't tell her?" Mom snaps while glaring viciously at Scott; making my twin recoil under her harsh gaze.

"Not yet…"

"Tell me what?" I question. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father and Irene picked a date, Nessa," Mom says. "They sent out invitations a few days ago. You- Irene left a message on the house phone… Sweetie, she wants you to be her maid of honor."

Scott, Stiles, and Mom all watched my reaction critically and for a moment there wasn't any; just the numbness I'd long associated with shock... but then the information sank in, and my stomach jumped to my throat at the sudden revelation.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I announce while bringing a trembling hand to my mouth before bolting towards the ladies' room; already heaving on the journey there.

I wasn't sure if it was my intense workout catching up with me or the wedding-bomb that had just been dropped on my head, but before I knew it I was flushing my lunch down the toilet as silent tears slid down my perspiring cheeks.

_Fuck_… why does this still hurt so badly? Why do I still hurt so _badly_?

"Oh Nessa," Stiles breathes as he enters the stall I'm curled at the bottom of. It isn't long until he's kneeling beside me and wrapping his warm and as-always comforting arms around my silently quivering shoulders.

"Why does it still hurt?" I ask softly whilst burying my face in his shoulder. "It hurts so much, Stiles. It hurts so _much_."

"I wish I could stop it," he tells me in a voice just as quiet. "I'm sorry I can't. I'm so sorry."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I entered library whilst eyeing Beacon Hills High's newly installed security cameras wearily. Gerard had upped our school's security what seems like tenfold in the short amount of time he's been here, and it made my bones jittery with nervousness. The feeling of being watched clung to my skin and left me feeling paranoid and drained. That, on top of yesterday's news and last night's feeble sleeping hours I was ready to get this meet-up with the others over with and get to bed.

"Hey," Allison whispers sharply as I head down the aisle she is 'browsing' on, "are you alright?"

"Fine," I answer dully.

"You don't look it," she observes with a sympathetic frown. "Are you sick or something?"

"Or something," I echo finally before heaving out a sad sigh. "Where are-?"

"Right here," Stiles cuts in while pulling away the book right before my face; revealing his usual happy-go-lucky expression. At the sight of me it quickly turns into a frown. "Nessa are you-?"

"I'm fine," I interrupt sternly before pulling an apologetic face. "Sorry," I whisper; not at all liking the fact I'd just snapped at Stiles.

"So what do you have?" Scott asks Allison pointedly as Stiles nods to me in acceptance.

The youngest Argent pulls a tablet out from her bag and slides it over stealthily to my brother.

"It's everything Lydia could translate," she says, "and she was _very_ confused as to why I needed the information."

"Well what'd you tell her?" Scott questions.

"That we're a part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures," Allison answers.

"I _am_ a part of an online gaming community that battle mythical creatures," Stiles announces proudly; making me look to him with an amused smile.

That boy…

"Does it say anything about how to tell who's controlling it?" my twin asks.

"Not really," Allison replies in disappointment. "But Stiles was right about the murders."

I'm passed the tablet next as Stiles whisper-shouts victoriously.

My eyes scan the writing as I scroll through as my brow raises upward in surprise.

"A weapon of vengeance," I murmur whilst reading the words I'd just read aloud.

"There's a story in there about a South African priest," Allison says, "who uses the Kanima to execute murderers in his village."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Stiles muses.

"-Until the bond grew strong enough that it could kill whoever it wanted to kill," the Argent continued.

"Okay, so bad," Stiles amends. "Very, very bad."

"Here's the thing though," Allison begins importantly, "the Kanima's actually supposed to be a werewolf but I can't be-"

"Until it resolves that in its past which it manifests," I finish from the reading.

"English please?" Scott prompts.

"He won't be able to turn into a werewolf until he admits to his past," Stiles explains, "or something like that."

"Well what about Jackson's parents?" I question. "His biological ones."

"Does anybody know what actually happened to them?" Allison asks.

"Lydia might," Stiles suggests.

"I don't think we should keep questioning her," I say. "It's unfair. I could… I could talk to Jackson and-"

"_Whoa_," Stiles interrupts. "No way."

"Well you two can't go within fifty feet of him and Allison has a guidance appointment," I state plainly. "It's the only way."

"I don't like it," Allison begins, "but she's right. And besides, Nessa is stronger now."

"I can take care of myself," I affirm.

"He does _anything _and you run the other way, understand?" Scott relents with a stern order.

My eyes roll in annoyance of their own accord. He was definitely taking Derek's alpha comment to heart, huh?

"Sure thing," I accept breezily while angling my body to head out in search of Jackson. "See ya."

"Wait," Stiles calls once I've entered the hallway.

"What's up?" I ask with a confused furrow of my brow.

I'm surprised with a kiss but reciprocate it eagerly.

"I-" he begins only to cut his words off with a shake of his head. "Stay safe, okay?"

"I will," I whisper as Stiles places a feather light kiss to my forehead; curious as to what he had initially begun to say but too mentally drained to question it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I'd been wandering about the school for fifteen minutes now, and just as I was about to give up I heard Jackson speaking aloud; his voice echoing out of the boys' locker room's door. I paused briefly before entering with a flourish.

"Jackson?" I call while peaking around a row of lockers only for my eyes to widen at the sight that greats me. "Jesus Christ!" I yelp while slapping a hand over my eyes. "Put some clothes on!"

"You're that one that walked into the boys' locker room."

His playful yet ominous tone sends a fearful shiver down my spine, and as I hear his feet padding predatorily closer I back up on shaking legs.

"Why _did_ you come in here?" Jackson questions as I lower my hands from my eyes but block his lower half from my line of vision.

"We'll talk once you put some clothes on," I say sternly while stumbling backward once more.

"We can talk now," Jackson smirks.

"Don't come any closer!" I order in a pitch tone as my hands tremble in fear.

Dammit, dammit, dammit…

"You're scared," Jackson singsongs; his tone pleased at the notion as he inches closer.

"Because you're _scaring me_," I say. "So stop it!"

He continues to advance and the look in his eyes throws every move Allison had ever taught me out of the window.

"I always thought you were so pretty," Jackson says as I back against the locker room's far wall. "But that mouth of yours," he tsks while reaching out and grazing the back of his fingers against my trembling lips, "it always outshines your beauty." His hand suddenly clamps down over my mouth and I let out a muffled scream. "That's much better, isn't it?"

In a panic I lash out and kick Jackson's shin (my weak spot, I remember distractedly whilst hoping it is Jackson's as well), and watch thankfully as the teen howls and falls back and to the ground in pain. Once he's on the ground I pivot and lunge for the door, but feel a hand reach out for my ankles. I fall to the tiled floor with a painful thud, and scream as Jackson crawls over my body with a furious snarl.

"Help!" I screech. "Help! Help me, please-!"

My pleas for help are cut short by Jackson's clawed, and scaly hand slapping my cheek with what felt like all of the force in the world. I feel the skin near my ear and cheekbone tear open as my eyelids clench shut in pain.

"Vanessa?" Jackson whispers; his voice trembling and much different than it had just been. I look up to see Jackson staring down at me in shock with wide, horrified eyes before he pushes himself off of me and away. "What are you doing in here?!"

I sit up and clutch at my bleeding face while sliding backwards until my back hits a wall; preventing me from moving any further. Jackson reached for a towel and quickly covers himself as I involuntarily suck in frantic, short breaths.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

My teeth begin to tingle and at the sensation I realize I've launched into my first panic attack since I dreamt of After.

Stiles. I need Stiles.

"What's going on in-?!" Scott begins as he bursts into the locker room, only to cut himself off at the sight of Jackson scrambling to pull on shorts as I cower across for him with tearing eyes.

I watch with wide eyes as my brother throws Jackson into a row of lockers; knocking the metal containers over and air from Jackson's lungs.

"Don't!" I yelp as Scott raises his fist. "He didn't-didn't hurt me I swear it wasn't his fault Scott don't!"

"I have a restraining order!" Jackson then shouts with fury.

Scott glowers hatefully down at his co-captain and replies, "Trust me, I restrained myself."

"Vanessa?" Stiles calls while entering the locker room.

"Stiles," I whimper as my tears begin to fall.

"Oh my god," he panics while coming over to help me to my feet, "what happened?"

"The Kanima," I answer simply as he helps me into the hall on shaking legs.

**Author's Note!**

**Dun, dun, dun! A fair amount of things happened in this chapter; from finding out Collin and Irene's wedding is sooner than initially thought to Jackson attacking Vanessa. Speaking of the wedding, any faceclaim ideas for Irene? Let me know in the reviews! The only thing I've decided about her so far is that she's young, around 27 or so. The wedding really will be soon, guys, and it'll be chalk-full of realizations/revelations!**

**Also, I know I had promised the new chapter around five days ago but it was the two-year anniversary of my Poppa's death, my mother (who has a heart condition) was hospitalized and we've gotten some not-so-great news about her health which was hard to hear.**

**On a lighter note; PLEASE GIVE ME IRENE FACECLAIM SUGGESTIONS! I'll see you guys next time, and DFTBA!**


	52. Chapter 49

**Thanks to everyone for their faceclaim suggestions! I've decided to use Christina Hendricks (specifically Christina's styling in her role in Ginger & Rosa) for Irene; I hope you like the decision! She's youthful and very different in appearance than the actress who plays Mellissa McCall- exactly what I was looking for in Irene's faceclaim. **

**The outfit Vanessa wears to the rave is on my polyvore (which is linked on my profile). Check out Icona Pop- the DJs/pop duo I'd written in, in this story (who I envisioned would DJ the rave); they're amazing!**

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

Whilst the others were sentenced with detention my mother was called and the nurse requested she pick me up from the school and take me to the hospital; my eyes were dilating in a way that suggested a concussion and it was prudent, given my history, I be checked out. Mom picked me up without complaint, and by the end of the second hour with my usual physician I was sent home with a relatively clean bill of health- besides the four stitches I'd needed for a claw mark dangerously close to my neck. When asked what attacked me I'd stayed quiet, just as I'd done the ride home and just as I'm doing now.

But then the phone rings, and my heart leaps into my throat at the caller ID.

_Irene Phillips_ it read in green, block-lettering.

I answered on the fourth ring in a shaking, hesitant tone.

"H-hello?" I stutter; feeling foolish for my cowardice.

"Vanessa!" Irene greets. "I've been trying to get you for days! How are you, sweetheart? Did you get my messages? How did you like the wedding invitation? Oh sorry, I haven't given you the chance to answer!"

"It's alright," I all-but whisper. "I'm fine, Irene. And you- how's the baby?"

I'm sure my politeness is a shock, so as Irene babbles about little Mikeal or Mikayla, I suppose I'll explain. The day I'd walked in on Irene and my father was the first breath Irene had ever heard of children. My father kept our family unit well-hidden, apparently. Just as he is good at small-talk he's good at lying (a talent I'd obviously inherited). The day I'd walked in on Irene and Dad was the day Irene walked out. I gather she'd been told Dad and Mom were separated, or arguing, or not working out (something along those lines) at that soon their marriage would be over, but at the realization that wasn't the case Irene broke things off and screamed at him; threw one of Mom's favorite dinner plates and then stormed off while throwing a tearful apology my way.

At first I blamed Irene for my parents' marriage failing. _The other woman _was a trope that had been forced down my throat since I was old enough to watch Lifetime movies- which according to my mother was seven. As I got older, however, I realized it took two. My father was not the saint I grew up believing he was. The nights my parents argued in hushed tones suddenly felt worse in hindsight, and as I looked back on them I realized my parents were doomed long before Irene came into the picture.

My father pleaded for forgiveness in a way he never did with Mom, and Irene forgave him after three months of groveling.

To be honest I don't know if they truly love each other because I'm not sure if my father knows how to love someone truly, but I do know in her heart of hearts Irene is… kind- too young, beautiful, and simultaneously too intelligent and ditzy to be with Collin McCall, but kind nonetheless. And she tries very hard with me and Scott. I hadn't seen her in a year now, just as how I hadn't seen my father in a year until he drove me home from the hospital a few months ago, but Irene had always tried her hardest to stay in touch. All calls and texts went unanswered though.

Until now, that is.

Honestly I don't know why I chose today to pick up the phone. Maybe it was the fact if I hadn't my mom would have and then forced me into speaking with my father's fiancé whether I chose to or not, or maybe it was my genuine curiosity to see how my half-sibling was coming along; but I did pick it up whatever my reasoning.

And so here I am, speaking to my father's fiancé for the first time in over twelve months about their upcoming wedding which had only be sprung on me the day before.

"I got your message," I suddenly cut in.

"Fantastic!" Irene cries. "I've already picked out the color scheme and have an idea for your dress so-"

"I haven't accepted yet," I interrupt shortly.

I can hear her breath suddenly catch at the harshness of my tone, and momentarily I feel guilty for snapping.

"Oh," Irene breathes. "Well, will you? Scott's already agreed to be the Best Man and I'd love for you to be a part of the ceremony too so-"

"I'd like that," I whisper. "Thank you, Irene. I'd… I'd really like that."

I surprise even myself when I realize I'm not lying.

A few hours later when my cellphone rings, my brow rises in suspicion. At first I thought it would be Irene revoking my Maid of Honor status; that she'd thought over how horrendous I'd always been to her and decided her third cousin Beatrice would be a much better fit, but then Danny's smiling face lit my phone's screen and I answered with a happy "hello".

"Guess who just got us tickets to the rave Icona Pop is DJing," Danny ordered; skipping over greetings altogether.

My mouth dropped at the mention of my and Danny's favorite Swedish-pop duo as the corners of my lips turned upward in an ecstatic, gaping smile.

"Oh my god!" I squeal while pushing my Algebra homework off of my lap and onto my bedspread. "You _didn't!_"

"Oh, I did," Danny replies coolly. "Think of it as an early birthday present. Anyways, I've got to go pick up Macy from daycare but I'll text you the deets later, okay?"

"Tell little Mace I said hello!" I order giddily. "Bye."

"Bye."

Just as my phone goes black Scott and Stiles burst into my bedroom; huffing and puffing breathlessly and obviously freaked out of their minds.

…_Dammit_.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day during lunch when I told Danny I would be taking my ticket only going with Scott and Stiles, he was less than impressed. It was a Sweet-Sixteen birthday gift we were supposed to enjoy together, but being the fact my ticket is in fact a _gift_ he didn't break my shoes too much about it. A promised movie night mended the little rift my cancellation caused, and that was seemingly that. I was disappointed that another one of my nights would be ruined by supernatural drama, but it would have been unfair for me to complain when none of the others did- not a one of us had signed up for this life, after all.

Still, my disappointment must have been noticeable despite my attempts at hiding it. I could tell from the way Stiles had been acting; sweet, affectionate, or at least more so than usual. During lunch when Danny mentioned my ticket being a birthday gift Stiles had grabbed my hand and sent me the most apologetic smile I had ever seen. I appreciated it, and showed it in the only way I knew how… kissing the boy senseless. Missing Icona Pop was a bummer but we had more important things to do.

Which was why Scott, Stiles, and I had just pulled into Dr. Deaton's veterinary practice; eager to get the things the vet somehow knew we needed. The whole 'what Deaton knew and how he knew it' was still uncharted territory for all of us, and I would have been apprehensive about the help we're being given if it was anyone else but Deaton; the man who talked to me like an adult and saved my brother's life on more than one occasion.

The nervousness we all felt for tonight was palpable. If everything went according to plan we would have the Kanima and who was controlling it, and if it didn't…

Well, I'd rather not think about that.

"So what is all of this?" I question while peering at the countless number of vials displayed on Deaton's examination table.

Scott lifts one and sniffs it cautiously. "Ketamine?" he questions in surprise.

Deaton nods his head in confirmation. "It's the same stuff we use on dogs only a higher dosage," he says. "If you get close enough to Jackson it will slow him down enough to buy you time." We were each given a syringe and vial before Deaton introduced the next substance. "This is what you'll be using to create the barrier. This part is only for you Stiles. _Only _you."

"Sounds like a lot of pressure," said boys nervously ticks.

I grab his nearest hand with my own and give it a reassuring squeeze; trying to give him some sort of comfort. "You can do it," I say; my voice hushed and words spoken only to him.

His response is an unsure glance in my direction.

"It's from the Mountain Ash tree; believed by many cultures to protect from the supernatural," Deaton informs. "This office is actually lined with Ashwood; making it difficult for people like Scott to cause me any trouble."

I wondered if he'd installed that little extra security after Derek had beaten him to a bloody pulp back when he was suspected to be the alpha, but keep from voicing the question.

"Okay," Stiles nods. "So I just spread this around the building and neither Jackson or the person controlling him can cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirms. "But think of the Ashwood as gunpowder, Stiles; it's just powder until a spark ignites it. You _need_ to be the spark."

"So what, he has to burst into flames for it to work?" Scott questions as his mouth quarks upward in a teasing smile; trying to ease the building tension. I send my brother a small smile as Deaton begins to speak once more.

"Let me try a different analogy, I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing until they imagine where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and the mind takes over… it can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

"Force of will," Stiles whispers nervously to himself.

"If this is going to work, Stiles," Deaton begins sternly, "you have to believe it."

I looked up to my boyfriend with hopeful eyes; knowing that if Stiles believes in himself even a fraction of what I do, he'll be able to pull this off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two hours, one shower, five trips to my closet, and a messy bedroom later I was dressed and ready to go to the rave; adorable cat-ear headband and all. I didn't have much of a reason to actually dress like I was going to the rave; I wouldn't be going into the building at all, really, but I reasoned that if I didn't dress appropriately for the occasion Jackson or his controller would realize something wasn't right; and honestly with all of my injuries and Scott/Stiles accusing Jackson of being the Kanima constantly it wouldn't be too hard to put two and two together.

And so my Litas were laced, hair teased, and face made up to the nines. As the Jeep's horn honked in my driveway, already loaded with my brother and Stiles, I slipped the syringe filled with Ketamine into my clutch before bounding down my house's stairs and out of the front door; locking it behind me. Technically Scott and I were still grounded, but being as Mom was on graveyard tonight I didn't think a little rule-breaking was a big deal. After all, you're only in trouble if you get caught.

I swear; I should be a life coach.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Scott asks while eyeing me distastefully.

"Clothes," I state plainly with a roll of my eyes. "Obviously."

"I can see your bra," Stiles says while looking at said article of clothing with wide eyes.

"You're supposed to," I respond with laughter shaking my voice; amused by his awe-struck expression.

"Hey!" Scott snaps while moving forward so I'm blocked from Stiles' vision. "Stop looking at my sister like that!"

"She's _my _girlfriend," Stiles replies with a roll of his eyes, "I can look at her any way I want."

"You're both idiots," I say with an eye roll of my own. "Now shut up and let's _go_; we've got a Kanima to catch."


	53. Chapter 50

**Chapter Fifty**

When we arrived at the warehouse I handed my ticket over to Scott so he could sneak in as I assist/accompany Stiles on his mission. My twin gave me a nod of thanks before taking off into the building in search for Jackson as Stiles uncorked the vial of Ashwood.

"Okay," he said nervously while eyeing the small contents, "I can do this."

"Damn right you can!" I cheer with a nod of reassurance.

"Let's go."

We'd almost completely circled the building now; a thin line of ash could be seen if you knew what to look for about three-quarters of the way around, and while Stiles was growing more nervous with each side-step I grew excited. The vial in my boyfriend's hand was no higher than my pinky and no wider than a test-tube; making me believe the Ashwood itself had to have some sort of magical qualities. Dr. Deaton's encouragement for Stiles to believe in himself, that his self-assurance was the only way this could work, seemed more believable now. How else could such small contents be dragged out over such a large field? All I knew way Stiles was succeeding, and I couldn't be more proud.

"Oh my god, there's no way this'll work," Stiles panics. "There's like fifty feet left and-!"

I reach out and lay a hand on his shoulder with an encouraging smile. "You can do this," I say surely as his iced-coffee eyes look up into mine. "I _know_ you can do this, Stiles. Please just- just believe in yourself as much as I do and you'll _see_ it! You can do this!"

He licks his lips nervously and glances down to the vial in his hands before looking back into my eyes with a shake of his head. "No I- this isn't gonna work I can't-"

I cup the sides of his face and give him the gentlest kiss we've shared since Winter Formal; hoping to convey some sort of inspiring emotion.

"I believe in you," I whisper as our eyes flutter back open. "Stiles Stilinski," I then begin with a teasing edge to my voice and smile, "if anyone can pull off the impossible, it's you."

I watched patiently as Stiles' iced-coffee eyes scanned my face for any hint of disbelief or nervousness; keeping a soft smile on my face the whole time.

"Okay," he breathes shakily while pulling away to resume his barrier-making.

"You can do it," I whisper so softly I'm unsure if he heard it.

The next thing I know the line is completed and I'm being kissed senseless up against the Jeep's backseat door.

Oh, I could get used to _this_.

"I did it," Stiles announces in between ragged breaths while hooking his hands around the back of my knees.

"Mhm," I hum with wide-eyes; surprised by the impromptu make-out fest… which quickly resumes with just as much enthusiasm.

Just as my head band, displaced by the Stiles' mussing of my hair, clangs to the blacktop floor the sound of ferocious, animalistic fighting fills the air.

"What was that?" I ask as Stiles and I break apart and look towards the sound's source.

"I don't know," he answers whilst lowering me back to the ground.

"C'mon," I prompt while taking his hand and tugging him towards the industrial building.

"What?" Stiles yelps. "No way-!"

"Someone could be hurt!" I say urgently while tugging him forwards once more. When gunshots fill the air I quickly amend my previous statement with, "Someone _is_ hurt!"

I'm unsure if it's the possibility of someone being killed or my pleading face that finally persuades Stiles to move, but whatever it is I'm glad it happened because we took off like bats out of hell in search of familiar, lycanthropy-infested, faces.

Erica's clawed hand grabbed Stiles and I, and pulled us into a dank, empty room where Jackson was lying unconsciously on the floor; obviously recuperating from some sort of injury.

"Is he okay?" Stiles asks while angling our position so his body is somewhat shielding mine from the supernatural creatures before us.

I roll my eyes at the movement but find the stupidity almost too-sweet.

"How about we find out?" Isaac smirks as his fingernails elongate and transform into claws.

My stomach squirms as the werewolf approaches Jackson, and from this particular feeling I know it's the sixth-sense.

"Don't," I begin in warning while taking an important step forward.

My three companions give me peculiar looks but Isaac pays me no mind. When he reaches out to claw Jackson, the Kanima's reflexes kick in and the breaking of Isaac's bones is nauseatingly heard.

Erica pulls her pack mate's fractured arm out of the Kanima's grasp as I cringe at the murderous look in Jackson's eyes. We'd been frenemies since pre-k and exchanged insults on the daily, but I never thought he could be as cruel as this… except it wasn't _really_ him, was it? Whoever was controlling the lacrosse player had better be here tonight because, as much as I hate to admit it, I want my friend back.

"Jackson," I begin hesitantly while stepping out from behind Stiles who immediately halts my movement by nervously grasping my upper arm.

"I'm here," Jackson answers in a voice very different than his own. "We're all here."

Every person of sound-mind in the room tenses at his words.

"W-who's 'we'?" I ask in a trembling tone.

"Us," he says.

"Are you the one killing people?" Stiles demands; his voice surprisingly strong.

"We're the ones killing murderers," Jackson answers.

"So you're saying all of the people you've killed so far-"

"Deserved it!" Jackson all-but screeches while interrupting my musing.

"Everyone?" I press while trying once more to get closer to Lydia's ex.

"All of them," Jackson growls in unrestrained anger.

"So everyone you've killed has killed someone else?" Stiles elaborates with surprise.

"Who did they kill, Jackson?" I question as Erica and Isaac take slow steps backwards; obviously tipped off by something with their heightened senses.

"_Me_!" the Kanima answers in a raging voice.

"Oh my god…" Stiles murmured with wide eyes as Jackson's body began to grow scales. "Vanessa get back," he orders while pulling me back and behind him.

"Ketamine!" I yelp while nervously taking hold of Stiles' upper arm. "Does anyone have any Ketamine?"

"We used it all!" Isaac shouts nervously whilst brandishing the empty bottle.

Stiles' demeanor turns icy as his eyes narrow on the werewolf's face. "_You used the whole bottle?_" he growls; enraged by Isaac's pure stupidity.

"Stiles," I whimper fearfully as the Kanima rises to his feet in stiff movements.

We all scurried out of the way when Jackson charged, but once he'd broken through the door we chased after him; hoping to stop whatever murder I could feel he was about to commit.

I somehow managed to run ahead of the rest of them. I wasn't sure if it was the dancing teenage bodies that got in their way or something else; all I know is I was the first on to lay eyes on the body and the first one to scream.

"_No!_" I screeched while rushing towards the ticket seller's bloodied body. "No, no, no, no, no," I repeat while repositioning her body so I can attempt CPR. "No," I cry through tearful eyes with each compression I futilely make.

"Vanessa," Stiles whispers while kneeling down beside me; his voice filled with concern.

"Not another one," I sob; overwhelmed with the amount of dead bodies I've seen. "Not another person Stiles _please, __**no!**_"

I continue the compressions until Derek's voice snaps me out of my shell-shocked reverie.

"Scott," the alpha murmured as his icy eyes scanned the lot behind us.

"What?" I croak while pulling my blood-stained hands off the woman before me's breastbone.

"Break it," Derek orders while glaring intensely at Stiles.

"What?" Stiles questions in surprise. "No way!"

"Scott's dying!" Derek shouts. "Break it!"

No one argues after that.

I clutched Stiles' hand with all of my weakened might as we waited for Scott to be brought back to us safe and sound. Derek had taken off a few moments ago, and when he left Stiles helped me clean the blood off of my hands before leaning us against the Jeep in a much less innocent position than we'd taken previously.

"Is that them?" I question whilst squinting at an approaching mass.

I was running towards my twin before Stiles had the chance to answer; already crying in relief that he seemed alright.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two days had passed since the rave, and I hadn't gotten much sleep since; especially since Stiles all-but dropped off the face of the earth. He wasn't necessarily dodging me, but he wasn't particularly loquacious either. When I tried to talk to Scott about it he simply shrugged before turning over and passing out. Evidently sleep was a large part of my twin's healing process, although what had happened to him was still hazy to me.

Today was not a day for supernatural drama though, oh no today was dramatic all in its own level because today… today is fittings for my dress. _What dress_? you ask. _For what occasion_? you question.

Why, the happy day of course! Dad and Irene's wedding! Oh, joy is me!

"So Irene is driving you home, right?" Mom questions as she shifts the car into park.

"That's what she said," I confirm with an unhappy sigh.

"Could you at least pretend to be happy?" Mom suggests with an overly amuse laugh.

I give a bright and obviously fake smile that causes Mom to roll her eyes before I exit the idle car; shutting the door firmly behind me before bracing myself for tool, incessant gushing, and living Hell.

Yes, _happy day._

Seventeen peach colored dresses later I was exhausted, annoyed by Irene's gaggle of friends, and seriously in need of a large meal, good company, and sleep. Irene and "the girls" (a group of seven overly enthusiastic and opinionated 30 year olds Irene has known since her college days) wanted to stop in a local restaurant for an early dinner before heading back out to look at bouquet arrangements, so to hopefully spare my sanity I excused myself for a moment to see if Stiles wanted to come pick me up and hang around for a few hours.

Only problem was; Stiles wasn't answering.

And so I dialed the house phone expecting the sheriff to be out working the ticket saleswoman's murder, only to be surprised when the man himself picked up with a lackluster "hello?"

"Sheriff!" I greet in surprise. "I didn't think you'd be home what with that woman's death. Did you catch the killer already?" I knew they hadn't, obviously, but I figured it was good to make myself appear clueless.

He clears his throat before answering. "Nessa, sweetheart, I- I was… let go a few days ago. Didn't-didn't Stiles tell you…?"

My mind reeled from the surprising information as I numbly answer, "No. No he-he didn't. Sheriff- I mean Mr. Stilinski I… I'm so sorry. Do you know wh-?"

"Was there something you wanted, Nessa?" Mr. Stilinski interrupts; obviously uncomfortable with my questioning.

"Yeah," I answer with a nod he can't see before wilting at a sudden thought. "Actually… no. No, I'm good."

"Did you want to talk to Stiles or-?"

"Nope!" I interrupt in a falsely cheerful tone; the same one I'd been talking in all afternoon. "Nah, it's fine. Don't- don't uh, tell him I called, okay? I'll see you around Sher- Mr. Stilinski."

As I hurriedly hung up, I couldn't help but wonder why Stiles hadn't trusted me enough to tell me about his father's demotion.

When I joined the girls back in the dress shop I was met with a barrage of questions about the frown I couldn't act my way out of.

**Woo, chapter 50! It's weird how quickly this is going.**

**Next chapter will be Vanessa's Sweet Sixteen! I've switched the birthday from Lydia's to her and Scott's because not only have they now had a birthday in Teen Wolf and I seriously doubt Allison would be comfortable dating a boy two years younger than her (which Scott would have to be if he is born in the summertime) but I just think it fits better with this story.**

**Leave me reviews? I don't think I got any last time, which seriously bummed me out.**

**Thanks guys, and DFTBA!**


	54. Chapter 51

**Guess what's in this chapter! No, guess! Oh alright, I'll tell you… It's the big ILY! Leave reviews about what you thought; next chapter will be up relatively soon! (and by that I mean Tuesday)**

**Chapter Fifty-One**

Monday passed with seldom activity. Things were routine; Stiles drove my brother and I to and from school, he walked with me to the classes we share, and then hung around the house until dinner time. In person he acted as he always had, and so did I; that was that. But I could feel my knowledge of his deception (which it was, wasn't it?) slowly but surely eating me up from the inside out. I just couldn't wrap my head around _why _he wasn't talking to me about Mr. Stilinski's unemployment. Was it because he didn't trust me? Was it because he thought I would think less of him? _Why, why, why?_ I wanted to ask so badly, but I more so wanted to see if Stiles would fess up first. Was this "secret" between us bothering him as much as it was me? It was all just so frustrating! Still, I couldn't force him to talk to me and so I didn't.

That didn't mean I was okay with him lying to me, it just meant I wouldn't be angry about it. Surely he had his reasons, right?

Tuesday came, and with it training with Allison. We ran our usual route, sparred viciously, and then she introduced me to a few weapons; none of which I was comfortable with or good at utilizing. At first I'd been disappointed but when Allison assured me there were many more tools to choose from I grew hopeful. And besides, I'd reasoned, physically I was already three times stronger than I had been when I started. I couldn't battle werewolves or kanimas with brute strength but any improvement was worth celebrating.

And speaking of celebrations, when Lydia brought up my upcoming birthday during lunch Wednesday I was shocked. My "sweet" sixteenth birthday had all-but slipped my mind in the drama of it all. I was just lucky I'd found Scott a birthday present over the summer, otherwise I'd be screwed. Here's to hoping he did the same for me.

Lydia's birthday plans for me were simple; she's throwing me a huge house party and that's that. I'd tried to argue but she said the Facebook invites had already been sent and the majority of our school had already accepted. I was stuck with a party I didn't want, a boyfriend who didn't trust me, and dress fittings for a wedding I didn't want to happen. It's safe to say this week had, overall, sucked for me; something both my brother and Stiles noticed. Whenever they tried to question me about my foul mood I simply announced that I was tired and locked myself in my bedroom.

Thursday brought about more training and weapons; none of which, once again, fit me. Allison continued to assure me that we'd find something, and if not there were plenty of long-range weapons that could pull me out of sticky situations. When I found out Wolfsbane grenades were real, just like in TVD, it was the first time I'd genuinely smiled all week, however when I demanded a lifetime supply (or at least instructions on how to make them) I'd been shot down fast. Apparently keeping Wolfsbane grenades in the house when my twin brother is a werewolf was classified as "dangerous". Pfft, _whatever_.

And then today came; today being my birthday and Friday, and I wasn't happy about it. So when my alarm clock went off I immediately hit 'snooze' and rolled back over with a groan; fully intending on getting fifteen more minutes of sleep before being forced to start the day.

Scott and my mother, however, had other ideas.

"Happy birthday!" they shout while bursting into my bedroom with cheery smiles on their drowsy faces.

I let out another groan as they take seats at the foot of my bed before nudging my twin with my foot and muttering a kind, "Happy birthday," back.

"What are you still doing in bed, Ness?" Mom questions whilst shaking the lower half of my body in an attempt to wake me up.

"I'm not going to school today," I reply while ducking underneath my covers and curling my knees to my chest.

"Oh yes you are," Mom argues as she yanks my comforter away. "It's your birthday!"

"I'm sick," I argue before throwing in an obviously fake cough.

"Only in the head," Scott jokes; earning an annoyed glare.

"You're going to school," Mom says, and there's a silent _and that's final_ tacked on the end. "Now get up and get dressed; I'm making chocolate chip pancakes!"

I sat up grudgingly as she exited the room before turning to my eagerly awaiting twin with wary eyes.

"I'll give you yours if you give me mine," I compromise while reaching towards the gift I'd stashed beneath my bed.

He's out and in of my bedroom so quickly I'm sure if I blinked I would have missed it.

"On the count of three," I instruct after we exchange our equally as terribly wrapped gifts.

"One," Scott begins.

"Two," I continue.

"Three!" we shout, and the sound of ripping paper fills the air.

"Quidditch Throughout The Ages!" Scott reads with wide, excited eyes. "Oh my god, Vanessa you are the greatest sister- oh my god-!"

Scott continues to babble about his love for all things Harry Potter as I smile softly down at the homemade gift I'd been given.

A picture of Scott, Stiles, and me when we were young, maybe nine or so, at a carnival greeted me with childlike grins; causing my eyes to tear at the sight. It was framed in an almost whimsical border; there were cartoon elephants (my favorite animal) stampeding around the whole frame in front of clear blue skies. The picture was no larger than 5x8, and I was completely in love with both the gift and the nostalgia it brought.

It was by far the greatest present I'd ever received.

The hug I pull Scott into is so gentle and unlike me it takes him a moment to return the embrace.

"It's perfect," I whisper; my voice thick.

"I just… I thought you- that you'd like something from before. Like, before all of… this."

"You're the best," I say. "I love you, Scotty."

My twin pats my head before replying, "Love you too Vee-Vee. Now get up because Mom won't feed me unless you're there too."

We parted with a laugh, and as he exited my bedroom I dived into my closet looking for the perfect outfit of the day; suddenly determined to have a good one.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Mom drove Scott and me to school today. She was trying to milk as much time with us as she could, being as she has the grave shift tonight. She promised to make up for it tomorrow; take us out to brunch and exchange gifts there, and then we'd go to Aunt Maria's for an extended family dinner. That's how birthdays usually went after Dad left; Mom had to work so we'd rain check for the next day. I never minded much because at the end of the day I still got my family time and presents, which was all that really mattered, but today I wasn't all that thrilled. Despite my mixed feelings about Stiles (my love for him, fear he doesn't trust me, etc.) I'd been looking forward to a few minutes of alone time before starting the school day.

"See you in lunch," Scott says as we approach my locker. He'd been nice enough to walk me instead of immediately running off to Allison as he normally did. I assumed the company was a birthday treat I shouldn't get used to.

"Happy birthday, baby bro," I smile whilst dialing my combination.

My response is an eye roll, poke to my side, and wave.

Butt-face.

As I exchanged my Chemistry binder for English I couldn't help but wonder where the hell my boyfriend was. I thought since he wasn't driving today he'd be waiting at me locker with something cheesy like a bouquet or roses or balloons but five minutes into the school day and I still hadn't seen him. My disappointment manifested itself into a sigh, but almost immediately after it was released familiar arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me upward before twirling me a few times; causing surprisingly girlish giggles to escape.

"Happy birthday!" Stiles singsonged over my shoulder once my feet were back on level ground.

I turned my back to the lockers so I could meet my boyfriend's eyes. The smile on my face was so wide it hurt my cheeks, and I couldn't help but be amazed that within literal seconds Stiles' presence could turn my whole mood upside down.

"Thanks," I reply earnestly as his hands reach down to lace our fingers.

"How about _we _get out of here?" Stiles suggests with a happy grin.

I bite the corner of my mouth in a moment of deliberation. By the time the school got around to logging in attendance and called home to question why I wasn't in class without a doctor's note Mom would have already left for work; meaning I could come home and erase the voicemail before Mom even heard the phone ring. Plus, how could I say no to alone time with Stiles? Even with the problems (that existed solely to me) we had I wanted to be with him for as long as I could.

And so I perch on my tip-toes to give him a kiss, pack the rest of my books away, and allow Stiles to lead me outside and towards the Jeep with a satisfied grin on his perpetually handsome face.

"So where are we headed?" I ask whilst laying my head against the warm passenger side's window.

"I was thinking a movie, lunch, and-"

"The park?" I interrupt with an eager grin.

Stiles lets out a laugh and glances to me out of the corner of his eye. "If that's what you want," he says.

The second time I sigh this morning it's with content. We'd just seen _Oz: The Great and Powerful_ and I was still reeling from James Franco's overall attractiveness. Stiles hand had become a permanent fixture in my own, and as we strolled casually towards my favorite diner I leant my head on his shoulder with a soft smile on my face.

"Thank you," I say suddenly whilst swinging our conjoined hands playfully.

"For what?" Stiles questions as he looks down to me with a furrowed brow.

"I'm not sure yet," I reply whilst looking up to Friday's blue skies.

He lets out a deep chuckle before kissing the crown of my head gently. "C'mon," he prompts while tugging me toward Johnny Rockets, "I'm hungry."

I laugh and roll my eyes but move faster at his command. "Alright, Fatty," I tease; causing Stiles to let out a scandalized gasp.

"I'm _voluptuous!_" he corrects in a humorously pitched tone.

"Big is beautiful," I nod in a serious tone but twitching lips.

"I love my lady lumps."

And with that, I crack and laugh so hard it's nearly impossible for me to stand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Stop, stop, stop!" I giggle as my knuckles turn white from holding onto the tire swing with all of my strength.

Stiles digs his heels into the sand between us and with a jerk we come to a stop.

"Oh god," he begins; his voice a mixture of groan and laughter, "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

"Aim for the grass," I advise with a breathless chuckle.

He kicks my shin lightly with a roll of his iced-coffee eyes. "Shut up."

After cheekily sticking my tongue out, we sit in silence for a few moments to catch our breaths.

"How do you see this all ending?" Stiles suddenly questions; catching me by surprise.

"What do you mean?" I question with a confused furrow of my brow.

"Like," he struggles for a moment, gathers his thoughts, and begins to elaborate in a slightly rushed fashion. "Like when all of this melodrama with the Kanima and Argents and everything is over, what do you see happening?"

"I see…" I begin; musing in my tone. "I see you and me. And we're in the Jeep listening to that indie station you really like, and the windows are down, and it's summer. We're going to- to the lake! We're going to the lake because that's where I first realized I liked you, and it's our six-month anniversary or something and we're just like 'Half a year already, huh?' because we can't believe how fast time is going."

I'm rambling now; talking with my hands the way Mom does when she's getting too-involved with a story she's telling, but I can't bring myself to care because I'm looking up at the stars but not really seeing them because what I'm really seeing… what I'm really seeing is Stiles and me in the moment I'm describing.

"And you say something that makes me laugh because that's just what you do, and we grab each other's hands because… because it's like every time I'm not touching you it's all I can think about doing. And then some song comes on that we both really like, and I'll look to you and watch you look at the road and think 'Oh my god, this is really happening' because I just can't believe someone as amazing as you would ever want to be with someone like me."

I blink my tearing eyes and flush at the realization I'd just word-vomited horrendously before looking down to Stiles fearfully with a quivering, apologetic, and shameful grin.

"Sorry," I whisper apologetically while dusting away a stray tear. "That must have sounded really stupid-"

"No, no, no!" Stiles denies while taking my dampened hand into his own. "That was the farthest thing from stupid, Vanessa. I- it actually makes me feel a lot better about… about what I want to uh- to tell you."

He pauses and I can physically feel his quickening pulse from how tightly he's holding my hand, and how equally as tight as I'm holding his back.

"And what do you want to tell me?" I ask; my voice so quiet and trembling I'm surprise he can even hear it.

"Vanessa Marisol McCall," Stiles begins slowly while bringing his free, shaking, left hand up to cup my cheek moisture cheek, "I know this is probably too soon, and you probably don't feel the same way and won't for a long time but…" He inhales unevenly and closes his eyes for a brief moment before gazing so deeply into mine I'm sure he can see right through me. "But I love you. _I love you_. I'm in love with you- I- fuck, Vanessa, I-"

I silence his rambling with a frantic kiss as my mind attempts to process the words Stiles just unleashed. He loves me. I can't believe it. Stiles loves me. Me! It's- I can't even fathom-! He's Stiles; he's funny and quirky and charming and handsome and so utterly perfect… to think he loves me… to think he feels the same way I do-!

"I love you too," I breathe as we separate; both of our eyes opening and turning wide at the confessions we'd both unleashed.

"Oh my god," Stiles whispers while shaking hands tuck stray hands behind my ears.

And just as I'm about to echo the exclamation, my phone rings.


	55. Chapter 52

**Okay, first off I'd like to apologize for my crap internet for not working at all yesterday nor the majority of today. I talked my mom into buying a new adapter (is that what they're called? I'm shit with technology.) so hopefully there will be no technological delays in my fanfiction future!**

**Also in this chapter it's mentioned that Stiles and Vanessa have technically only been on two dates, but I don't think that makes their "I love you" any less valid. They've been best friends for nine years now, have liked each other (or at least Vanessa's liked him- don't worry Stiles' romantic feelings will soon enough be pinned down to a timeline) for two of those years, and have been acting on romantic feelings for six months now. I mean if any of you readers think it's too soon then I'm sorry but I think they're young and in love and just perfect together.**

**Oh, and FYI Vanessa and Stiles are going to have sex. It's not in this chapter and probably won't happen for at least three more, but I just wanna give forewarning. I won't be writing a "lemon" or anything but it'll be insinuated they'll, as Lydia so eloquently puts it, **_**take a ride to pound town.**_** There'll probably be some major discussion with Lydia when Stinessa do, do it too, but it won't be graphic or anything. I just think that Vanessa is the type of girl who isn't ashamed of sex or talking about it. I mean, everybody does it so she might as well gush with her best friend over her boyfriend's (ahem) **_**skills**_**. (Yes, I imagine Stiles having mad sex skills. Not at first or anything being as they're both virgins but like, they'll come with time and practice.)**

**I hope none of you guys found that awkward, lol. Anyways, onto the chapter!**

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

"I should probably get that," I whisper, but don't lean backwards nor reach for my phone.

"Probably," Stiles echoes whilst tucking a too-long baby hair behind my ear with gentle hands.

With a sigh I pull backward and bring my cell up to my ear with a lackluster but breathless, "Hello?"

"Vanessa McCall where the hell have you been all day?" Lydia shrieks; making me wince at the sudden sound of her irate tone.

"With Stiles," I answer; my tone guilty as I inspect the now-visible stars overhead.

"While I'm glad you're getting a head start on the birthday sex-"

"_Lydia!_" I hiss with flushing cheeks. "Oh my god, shut up!"

"No, you shut up and listen! You're birthday part is starting in T-minus two hours and I need three to make you look decent!"

"Hey," I cut in with a pout; highly insulted.

"Your butt better be walking through my front door within ten minutes Nessa or else there will be hell to pay!" Lydia barks; her voice filled with its authority.

"Yes dear," I sigh complacently. "See you soon."

"Lydia?" Stiles questions as I slip my phone back into my pants' pocket.

I nod with a guilty smile. "Yeah. Apparently I've got to start getting ready for this part tonight."

The tire swing sways slightly due to a cool breeze, but other than that no movement is made.

"We should get going, then," Stiles suggests; although his tone is as reluctant as I feel.

I lean forwards with a sigh and rest my forehead against his collar bone whilst my eyes flutter closed. "Would it be bad if I said I wanted to ditch the party and just hang out with you instead?"

"Would it be bad if I said let's do it?" Stiles questioned in response while winding his arms around my shoulder; pulling me into a warm embrace.

God, I can't believe he loves me.

"I'd say we ditch Bonnie and Clyde style but Lydia'd kill me come Monday," I sigh with disappointment.

"Alright," Stiles concedes before getting to his feet; making me soon follow, "let's get going, birthday girl."

As Lydia primped and prepped me for the night I pretended to listen to her gossip when in reality all I could think about was Stiles. Stiles and the wonderful day we shared. Stiles and how his hand felt intertwined with mine. Stiles and the crinkles beside his eyes that appear whenever he laughs. Stiles and the flushing of his cheeks. Stiles and the sincerity in his tone when he told me he loves me. Stiles, Stiles, Stiles…

God, I can't believe he loves me.

"All done!" Lydia chirps after painting on one final coat of gloss on my lips. "You look amazing, thanks to my expertise, and-" a bell chimed suddenly; interrupting my friend's words, "oh, and there are the part guests! Stay up here until at least ten minutes, the guest of honor _has_ to be fashionably late."

"Alright," I promise with a roll of my dolled-eyes. Just before the strawberry blonde exits her bedroom completely I call out a meaningful, "thank you" that, for some reason, makes her expression grow somber.

"It's no problem," Lydia smiles forcefully with a nervous sweep of her eyes, "no problem at all."

Before I can question her strange behavior the door is already clicking shut behind her petite frame; silencing the room completely.

Well, that was weird.

With a sigh I flopped backwards onto Lydia's floral bedspread; my mind already back off in Stiles Land. I just… I _love_ him, y'know? That kind of love where you smile all of the time. The kind of love that makes you want to sing and dance and just hold him close. The kind of love that you want to scream to the world but whisper in his ear; quiet and breathless and sincerely. I just… love him. I love him. I love him. I love him.

"Knock, knock," the recognizable voice of Stiles rang out as Lydia's bedroom door opened once more.

"Hey," I smile whilst sitting back up; my tone breathless at the sight of him.

"Hey," he echoes before crouching slightly to press a kiss to my lips. "Lydia sent me up to tell you, you can come down now."

I roll my eyes lightly at my friend's antics before nodding energetically in agreement. "Alright, let's get going-"

"Wait," Stiles interrupts while pulling something out of his pocket as I began to stand. "I uh, I want to give you your present first."

"Present?" I question with furrow of my brow. "I thought today; the movie and lunch was my-"

"Nope," he cuts in with a proud smile. "_That_ was our second date."

"Stiles Stilinski," I begin; my voice teasingly mocking, "you tricked me into going on a date with you."

"I'm smooth, remember?" he banters good-naturedly.

"Like silk," I laugh with happily flushing cheeks.

God, I love him.

"Well anyway," he begins while bringing a velveteen rectangle into view, "happy birthday, Vanessa."

My eyes widen at the jewelry box, but before I can berate Stiles for spending too much money on me I gasp at the familiar tennis bracelet glinting up at me.

"Is that-?" I question breathlessly whilst fingering the silver and diamond links.

"My mom's," Stiles finishes; his voice soft. "Yeah. It- well actually it was the first gift my grandpa gave my grandma, and my dad gave my mom, and now-"

"That you're giving me," I finish as tears collect in my painted eyes. "Stiles I- you don't have to- I mean, I love it _I love it_ but shouldn't you save it for someone-?"

"I thought we already established I'm in love with you," he interrupts while brushing away a stray tear.

"But Stiles I-I don't deserve- I mean this is _Amelia's_!"

He smiles a bittersweet smile before replying, "Exactly. My mom loved you, Nessa,_ I_ love you. It's perfect. You deserve everything, Vanessa, _everything."_

I have to inhale a few calming breaths before I can speak once more.

"Could you put it on for me?" I ask quietly while offering my nimble, right wrist.

The smile I receive in response is so beautiful it's nearly blinding.

XXXXXXXXX

Two hours, too-many strangely delicious drinks, and a plethora of dance partners later I stumble off of the makeshift dance floor with deliriously smiles plastered on my flushing faces.

"Hey!" Stiles calls over the 90's house party music (my favorite dance genre, bless Lydia for remembering). "Where are you going?"

"To change my shoes!" I laugh while pointing down to the offending pumps. "Wanna come?"

I hope by the sly expression I put on he can tell if he _does_ accompany me up to Lydia's bedroom they'll be more than shoe-changing going on. When I notice his eyes widen fractionally before he nods with so much enthusiasm he resembles a bobble-head I know my message was received, so with a grin I grab Stiles by the hand and lead him through the throng of partying teenagers and up towards Lydia's no-no area; the bedrooms.

When the wooden door closes behind us, the only sound that infiltrates the room is house-music, the occasional whooping of teenagers, and my and Stiles' labored breathing.

"So," he begins whilst taking a seat on Lydia's bed, "you having a good time tonight?"

I give a laugh, kick off my shoes, and then straddle him with an order of, "Shut up and kiss me."

The next thing I know my back is on the bed, Stiles' shirt discarded, and my dress' hem is slowly but surely being moved more and more upwards by Stiles' rough yet gentle hands. We'd never gone this far, not as if this was far at all, but never before had clothes been removed and quite honestly I didn't want them to _stop_ coming off.

Unfortunately though, in the usual fashion, Stiles and I were interrupted when a very drunken Danny stumbled in with a giggle falling from his pouty lips.

"Oh shit!" the lacrosse player shouts as Stiles' and my lips separate; startled by the sudden company. "I'm so, so sorry guys- but yeah, right on, birthday sex!"

Before either of us can reply Danny's already stumbling back out of the room; giggles flying from his mouth once more as he slams the door shut behind him.

With wide eyes I turn to look up to Stiles, who in unison does the same. Our flushed cheeks darken and as I sit up he pulls away; both of us ridden with obvious mortification at how far we'd almost gone only to be interrupted by Danny of all people.

"Uh, uhm," I stutter before clearing my throat and getting to my feet. "I'm gonna go uh- freshen up. I'll meet you- meet you downstairs."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees whilst reaching for his abandoned shirt. "Right."

"Okay," I nod before slipping quickly into Lydia's bathroom to inspect the damage.

If it was possible I swear my face turned an even deeper shade of pink at the sight of three forming hickeys claiming the left side of my neck. Jesus Christ Stiles, and the one night I'm wearing something strapless. I tried to cover up the marks with a bit of Lydia's foundation but the difference of our skin tone made me look as if I was developing skin cancer. Oh well, the kids would all be too drunk to notice. Except for my brother that is, and maybe Allison, but if I just avoided them for the rest of the night I could save both myself and Stiles the embarrassment of letting my brother know we were… _physical_.

Dear God have mercy on my soul.

After combing through my hair a few times and adjusting wayward curls I turned back to Lydia's bedroom with a much calmer heart. I was surprise to spot Stiles when I re-entered, however, because whilst fixing my makeup I could have _sworn_ I heard him exit.

"Hey," I greet with a smile. "I thought you went back downst-"

My words died at my throat when I noticed a large black mass looming over my boyfriend's body, and a screech escaped my lips when I recognized it as Peter's alpha form.

"_No!"_ I screamed as it raised a threatening claw. When Stiles didn't move or acknoweledge my presence in any way I lunged forward to push him out of the way, but when Peter's human form grabbed me from behind and stopped me from moving all I could do was watch in horror as a clawed paw pierced my boyfriend's chest; splattering blood all around the room and onto my face.

"_**No**_!" I screeched whilst falling to my feet. How could this be happened? How could this be _happening?_ "Stiles! _Stiles!_"

No, no, no, no, no! No! Not Stiles- not like in my nightmares _please no!_

"Vanessa?" my twin shouts whilst bursting into Lydia's bedroom; urgency shining through his dark eyes.

At his arrival both Peter and Stiles vanished, but the image of them burned into my retinas like wildfire. What was happening? What was going on?

"He killed Stiles!" I scream through frantic sobs as Allison too enters the room. "No, no, Scotty _no_! He killed Stiles- he- he _killed-! _Just like in After- just like- _**no!**_"

"What's happening?" Allison questions as my brother collects me in a warm embrace.

"Her hallucination," Scott answers in a tired sigh.

I hear the sound of more footsteps but my face is buried too far into my brother's shoulder for me to see the new arrival.

"What'd she see?" I hear Stiles question; his voice soft behind me. I sob louder at the sound; overwhelmed by the present and what I just saw.

"You," Scott answers; his tone full of dread, "being murdered."

I simply wail louder at my twin's words; my mind playing back my hallucination like a movie.

**AN:**

**That's all, folks! (For now, anyway.)**

**My chapters are kind of getting shorter, as I'm sure you guys have noticed, but if all things go according to plan the next one is going to be a very long one.**

**Leave reviews, check out me new story Indian Summer, and DFTBA!**


	56. Chapter 53

**Chapter Fifty-Three**

"Are you sure you're alright?" Scott questions as I take a sip of the hot cocoa Allison had been kind enough to make me.

I leaned into Stiles' side as he rubbed soothing circles onto my lower back before giving a determined nod.

"I'm fine," I answer; my voice only just above a whisper. "Besides, I'm not what we should be focusing on right now. I mean… _Matt_? Of all people it's Matt? How does that make any sense?"

"How does_ any_ of this make any sense?" my brother retorts with a sad smile. "But it's him, and now that we know it we need to do something about it."

"Like what?" I ask. "Kill him?"

Lydia's bedroom silences at my question, but Allison breaks it after a moment.

"He killed all of those people, he'll kill more if he isn't stopped."

"She's right," Scott nods.

"He's just a kid," I sigh while wiping a hand down my still-damp face.

"He's our age, Nessa," Stiles argues gently whilst continuing his circles. "He knew what he was doing."

When I realize I can't deny his words I quickly change the subject.

"Have any of you guys seen Lydia?" I ask; my eyes scanning their individual faces.

Scott's face darkens as he replies, "Not since she practically shoved that poisoned punch down my throat."

"We don't know if she's the one who poisoned it," I defend, although even I know that's a lie. Lydia had been pushing her 'special recipe' down all of our throats since the party started. The question was _why_?

I heave a sigh at their unimpressed stares before questioning if anyone had contacted Derek yet.

"Derek?" Scott growls with a narrowing of his eyes. "Why the hell would we need to call Derek?"

"Because we're four teenagers going up against a supernatural serial killer we don't know anything about," I snap; irritated by his thick-headedness.

"Vanessa's right," Stiles says; although his tone is filled with reluctance, "maybe we should call Derek-"

"No," Scott interrupts in a final tone. "We do this on our own."

I watch curiously as an idea sparks up my boyfriend's face. "Maybe not completely," Stiles suggests whilst getting to his feet. "C'mon, I've got an idea."

The idea was telling his father all of the clues about the serial killings we'd (and by "we" I mean Stiles) found over the past few weeks. He didn't say so exactly, but I followed Stiles' train of thought to be this; we tell Mr. Stilinski about some of the happenings, use his police officer attachments to build even more evidence and make him believe us, and then the man can claim to have solved the case himself and get his job reinstated. I wasn't sure how any of it would go over, so when we arrived at the Stilinski household I quickly grabbed a few items of my stash of clothes and wandered off to change out of my party outfit and into something a little more… combat-friendly. Allison had to get home because of an urgent call from her father and so I would be flying relatively solo on this excursion; something that both excited and terrified me.

When I returned Stiles was desperately trying to get his father to believe him.

"Police look for ways to connect victims, right? So look through their transcripts and find out what class they all had in common!" Stiles orders; his tone pleading as he stared up at his father with hope in his eyes.

"That rave promoter, Kara, son she wasn't in Harris' class," Mr. Stilinski disputes with a firm shake of his head.

"Mr. Stilinski," I begin in an argumentative tone, "you've got to admit this is more than just coincidence!"

The man pulls a face before turning to my brother with a question at his lips. "Scott, do you believe this?"

"Yes sir," my twin nods earnestly whilst pulling his puppy-dog face.

"Dad we _know_ it's Matt," Stiles cuts in.

"How?" Mr. Stilinski questions. "Son, how do you know?"

"We can't explain," I cut in before Stiles can spout an atrocious lie. "But it's the truth and you're just going to have to trust us on this."

"Trust _you_?" Mr. Stilinski echoes with incredulous suspicion; causing my short fuse to light and body to bristle.

"Dammit Mr. Stilinski, we're not some stupid kids! If you don't trust me then at least do it for your fucking son!" I shout with unsuppressed anger.

The room goes silent as I glare up at man with a determined scowl set on my makeup smeared face before, finally, Mr. Stilinski gives a nod of concession.

"Alright," he acknowledges, "but what do you want me to do about it? I'm no longer this town's sheriff."

"We've gotta look at the evidence," Scott replies.

"Which is at the station," Mr. Stilinski begins with a roll of his eyes, "where I no longer work."

"They'll let you in," Stiles says certainly. "C'mon Dad, we at least have to try."

"Fine," Mr. Stilinski replies with a nod, "but _I_'m driving."

XXXXXXX

I entered the police station whilst furiously scrubbing away at the flaking mascara on my cheeks; trying to rid of the evidence I'd been crying. Marcy, the usual receptionist, looked up to us with an unamused expression on her youthful face.

"It's two in the morning," she states flatly; irritated by our disturbance.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important," Mr. Stilinski sighs with an apologetic smile.

"We should look at the hospital evidence first," Stiles suggest in a hushed tone; catching me and my twin by surprise.

"Why?" Scott asks as I furrow my brow in confusion.

"Well all of the murders were done by Jackson except for one, right?" Stiles questions explanatorily.

"Jessica," I breathe with a nod of my head, "the pregnant woman. Matt had been the one to kill her, so someone at the hospital probably saw him."

"That's what I'm thinking," Stiles nods before his father cuts in.

"Guys!" he barks; already halfway towards the storage locker.

We jump and quickly follow him before setting up shop in front of a small television screen. We'd been looking through the hospital's security system's footage for twenty minutes now and there was still no sign of Matt.

"I don't know guys," Mr. Stilinski begins in a wary tone, "there was a six-car pileup that night. The hospital was jammed with patients-"

"He's on here," I interrupt whilst narrowing my eyes on the bright screen before us. "I can feel it."

After a few moments my brother let's out an exclamation of, "Stop! Stop the tape! Did you guys see that? Quick, rewind!"

Mr. Stilinski does as told and, just as Scott saw, Matt had been caught on tape.

"That's just the back of someone's head!" Stiles' dad exclaims in frustration.

"Not someone's; Matt's!" Stiles defends. "I sit behind him in History- he's got a very distinct shaped cranium- it's kind of weird actually-"

"Are you crazy?!" Mr. Stilinski questions; his voice raised as he stairs incredulously down at his son.

"Let's just fast forward," I cut in. "There has to be another shot of him on another camera."

"Right there!" Stiles cries after a few moments while pointing to the back of Matt's head once more. "See? There he is again!"

"No," Mr. Stilinski denies, "there's the back of his head again!"

"Okay, okay fine," Stiles relents, "but look he's talking to someone!"

My eyes widen at the familiar nurse as I whisper, "Yeah… my mom."

Scott immediately dials her personal cell to question her about Matt, but when he does it doesn't go… _smoothly_, and so I decided to intervene.

"Yes Mom, we know how many patients you get a day but this is very, _very _important. I'm sending you a picture of the boy now and if you recognize him you've got to tell us, alright?"

"Guys I've already talked to the police about this-"

"Did you get the picture?" I interrupt.

"Yeah," she sighs. "Hold on." There's static over the line for a moment before her voice returns. "I remember him," Mom announces. "I stopped him because he was tracking mud down the hall."

Mr. Stilinski's face turns serious at the new information, and I flood with hope when I realize he's finally beginning to believe us.

"Nessa, Scott, what's going on?" Mom questions over the speaker phone. "Why do you need to know this stuff-"

"Got to get back to the party!" I cut in with an acted laugh. "Love you Mom, talk to you later!"

Before she can reply Scott's already hung up his phone and slipped back into his jeans' pocket.

"We found shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site," Mr. Stilinski announces whilst searching urgently through police files. "If they match-"

"That puts Matt at the scene of three murders," I finish before listing, "the hospital, the trailer, and the rave!"

"Actually," Mr. Stilinski cuts in while reading from a dated file, "four murder scenes. Matt signed a credit card receipt for an oil change the night that mechanic was killed."

"When?" Stiles questions with a furrow of his brow.

"A few hours before you got there."

"Alright Dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence and three's a pattern, what's four?"

A ghost of a smile appears on Mr. Stilinski's face before replying, "Four's enough for a warrant. Scott, call your mom and see how fast she can get over here. If I can get an official ID I'll have a search warrant by sunup. Vanessa you go to the front desk and tell Marcy to let Mellissa right in when she gets here."

I nod quickly before following my orders without complaint, however when I reach the front desk there's no sign of Marcy anywhere.

"Marcy?" I call as lead fills in my chest. "Marce?" When I peak over the front desk and catch sight of the woman's bloodied, mangled body I open my mouth to let out a scream only to be silenced by the sound of a gun cocking.

"Don't make a sound," Matt orders in a harsh tone as I look to him out of the corner of my eyes.

Oh _fuck_.

My body tensed when Matt shoved the gun's barrel into my temple harshly before he pushed me by the gun forwards; making me stumble before regaining my balance.

"Walk," he orders sternly, and I have no choice but to obey.

I lead him to the others with quaking hands, and when we entered the boys' eyes went wide with fear. Stiles' iced-coffee orbs, filled with terror at the sight before him, locked with mine and I shook my head softly to indicate he not do anything stupid.

"Matt," Mr. Stilinski spoke up whilst raising his hands in a surrendering fashion, "it's Matt, isn't it? Whatever is going on I guarantee there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

I inhaled a quaking breath and looked up to the police station's speckled ceiling when I heard Matt's revolver clicking at the nape of my neck and blinked away swimming tears.

Oh my god, I'm gonna die.

"Please," Stiles whispers softly as his hand reaches out towards mine, "don't-don't hurt her."

"We know you don't want to hurt people, Matt," Mr. Stilinski begins; already in cop mode, only for Matt to interrupt in a chilling tone.

"Actually I want to hurt a _lot_ of people, and even though you four weren't on my list I can be persuaded. One of the ways I can be persuaded is by someone dialing their cellphone like Scott is doing now." I watched my twin stuff look up to Matt wide eyed as the murder pressed his gun's cold barrel to my right temple, _hard_. "Now that could get someone _seriously_ hurt."

"Okay," Matt continues; his voice turning manic, "I want everyone's phone on the floor now. _Now_!"

We all emptied our pockets and threw our phones to the floor without questioning his actions. Every few seconds the gun would push farther into my skull and it took everything in me not to flinch or breakdown crying. Even after everything; my training, my lessons, I was weak. Maybe not physically, but in this instant I was helpless and there was nothing I could do to change that. I'd learned my lesson from Peter Hale not to challenge a killer when your own life is in the balance. I cheated death once, and quite honestly I doubted I'd be able to again.

"Sheriff," Matt begins in authority in his tone, "you're going to handcuff yourself to that holding cell back there, got it?"

"Matt-" Stiles' father begins, only to silence when the gun digs so far into my forehead I have no choice but to cry out in pain.

Through tears I watch Mr. Stilinski do as he'd been ordered before Matt turns his attention to my brother and Stiles; eager to order them around as well.

"Get rid of all the evidence linking me to the murders," he demands whilst pulling me roughly against his body, "or her brains are all over these walls."

The boys comply without uttering a word of refusal, but both keep looking to me every few seconds out of the corner of their eyes; just to make sure I'm still there. I try to offer a weak smile but when their expressions turn grave I realize it must have looked more like a pained grimace than a grin.

"We're done," Stiles announces. "I think we're good here, right? I mean, since all of the people you murdered killed you first (whatever the hell that means) you can just give us back Vanessa and we'll all be on our way-"

"Looks like your mom's here, guys," Matt interrupts as headlights illuminate the dark police station's rooms.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Scott interrupts desperately as Matt begins to lead me towards the door. "Wait, Matt I'll just- I'll tell her we didn't find anything! She's innocent!"

"Please," I beg softly whilst struggling in his chokehold. "Not my mom."

"If you don't move right now," Matt begins threateningly while setting a harsh glare on my brother's pained face, "I'm going to kill Stiles, and then your sister, and then your mom."

None of us could say no to that.

"Open the door," Matt hisses as Scott approaches the station's entrance.

"Matt-" my twin begins hesitantly, only to be interrupted.

"Now!"

Scott quickly obeys, but we're all relieved to see Derek standing in the doorway instead of our mother.

"Derek," I sigh in relief, only to tense once more when he drops to the ground.

Fuck, I'd forgotten all about Jackson.

Matt orders Scott and Stiles to drag Derek further into the station, and once the alpha's propped against a wall he begins to speak with fury in his tone.

"This _kid_ is the one controlling him?" Derek sneers.

"Not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf," Matt replies. "Oh yeah, that's right; I know all about what goes on every full moon. Hunters, werewolves, Kanimas; it's like a freakin' Halloween party in this town. But there is one thing I can't quite figure out, and Vanessa maybe you can help me out with this one." I inhale sharply when his lips brush against my left ear and try to pull out of his strong grasp. "What do you and Stiles turn into?" Matt whispers; curiosity in his eerie tone.

"Abominable Snowmen," I snap whilst pulling harshly against his grasp.

"I prefer the term Yeti, actually," Stiles cuts in lightly; making me laugh despite myself.

"You think this is a joke?" Matt screams furiously; cutting my laughter short and making me flinch in fear. "I'll show you what's funny!"

Then next thing I know I'm stumbling forwards and a loud gunshot rings in my ears; momentarily setting me off kilter.

"Stiles?" I whisper in horror as I open my clenched eyes to see Stiles' shocked face only inches before my own.

"_Fuck_," he breathes as warm liquid drips onto my left shoulder, "that hurt more than I expected it to."

"What did you just do?" I question in terror as he lets out a grunt of pain.

"Got shot in the shoulder," Stiles answers breezily before smiling charmingly down at me, "but don't worry, I've got two of 'em."

Headlights once again appear, and before I can reply Matt is ordering my brother to do as he says.

"You do what I tell you and I won't hurt her. I won't even let Jackson near her."

"Go," I urge Scott whilst lowering Stiles down to the floor beside Derek. "I'll stay here with them. Keep Mom safe."

"You should listen to your sister, Scott," Matt coddles with a smirk that makes my stomach churn.

After another nod of assurance from me both boys exited the storage room. Once they'd completely disappeared I turned to Stiles with a concerned expression on my face.

"Don't move," I order whilst unbuttoning his shirt so I can get a closer look at his wound. When I pull the cloth away from his entry wound Stiles lets out a pained hiss, which I immediately apologize for. After jostling him gently around some I give a sigh of relief at my discovery. "It's a clean through-and-through, and there're no arteries over there a bullet could have nicked." I pull my flannel top off and tie it tightly around his wound before giving another sigh and kissing his forehead lovingly. "You're an idiot," I insult before turning to Derek with a concerned expression on my face. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," the alpha replies.

"Is there anything we can do to speed up your healing process?" I question.

"I'm already on it," Derek replies whilst looking pointedly down to his hands where claws are piercing the flesh of his hand.

I give a curt nod before looking back to Stiles with an urgent expression on my face.

"Stiles," I begin, "do you know where there are any more guns in this place-?"

"No way," he interrupts sharply. "You're not going anywhere near another gun so long as we _both_ live-"

Gun shots fill the air, and I'm up and over to the door before I have the time to pause and think.

"Mom!" I shout desperately whilst pray she's alright, only to drop to the floor in a paralyzed heap after grabbing at the doorknob's slimy handle. "God fucking dammit!" I scream as Jackson hauls me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as my fingers tingle with numbness. "I'm going to fucking kill you, you hear me? You're dead!"

In response Jackson simply drops me into my boyfriend's lap without remorse nor reason.

"Oof," Stiles grunts, "did you gain weight?"

I scowl up at him to the best of my abilities before replying, "I gained_ muscle_ Stilinski, which I'm gonna use to kick your ass once your shoulder's healed up."

"Mhm," he hums disbelievingly whilst adjusting me so I'm lounging backward against his chest; my head lulled on his uninjured shoulder.

Footsteps sound from the hall and I mentally prepare myself for what's about to walk in. My mother injured? My brother? A police officer? Hell, with the way things were going lately I wouldn't be surprised if Chris Cringle himself walked in.

"The evidence is gone," Scott begins in a pleading tone, "so why don't you just go?"

Matt gives a manic laugh before questioning, "D'you really think the evidence mattered that much? I want the book!"

"What book?" my twin questions with a furrow of his brow.

"The bestiary- and not just a few pages! I want the entire thing!"

"We don't have it," Scott informs him with a sneer. "It's Gerard's. Why do you even want it anyway-?"

"I need answers," Matt growls.

"Answers to what?"

"To this!" Marr shouts before pulling at his shirt; revealing scales identical to Jackson's.

Oh my god, he's turning into a Kanima.

Scott and Matt left in search of the bestiary; leaving Jackson in charge of Stiles, Derek, and me.

"Derek," Stiles hisses after a few moments to the alpha sitting beside us, "do you know what's happening to Matt?"

I focus all of my energy in turning my head fractionally to the alpha; immensely grateful I'd only come into contact with Jackson's poison instead of falling paralyzed the usual way by bloodstream. From what I gathered from Stiles he'd regained mobility within a half an hour the night of his mechanic's death; meaning I had only ten more minutes to go.

"The book's not gonna help him," Derek says certainly. "You can't just break the rules; not like this at least."

"Rules?" I echo in confusion.

"The universe balances things out. It always does."

"But why?" I push.

"He killed someone himself," Derek answers.

"Without using the Kanima," Stiles elaborates. "Wait, so this is like, karma?"

"_Balance_," the alpha corrects.

"Because he killed Jessica he's turning into a Kanima," I assess with widening eyes.

"Do you think he'd believe us if we tell him that?" Stiles questions.

Derek gives a sigh before replying, "Not likely."

"He's gonna kill us once he gets that book," I predict hopelessly with a downtrodden sigh.

"Probably," the lone Hale replies in a listless tone.

"Wonderful," I snark with a roll of my eyes.

**AN:**

**Because the last chapter was so short I decided to post this one as soon as I finished.**

**Lots of stuff happened in this one, my favorite being Stiles literally taking a bullet for Vanessa. They'll be a discussion about that later on between the two love-birds, and it'll be super cute.**

**Do you guys mind multiple updates in one day? I just thought it'd be nice to put chapters out as I write/edit them. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please leave a review down below!**

**Thanks guys, and DFTBA.**


	57. Chapter 54

**Major McCall family drama. Mellissa acts horrendously but realistically. Tell me how you feel about this slight AU? By the way, the reason why I don't write in every single detail is because I'm assuming those reading this fic have a fair understanding of what happens in the real Teen Wolf. This chapter is also super short, I'm sorry but my CI is acting up again and I figure putting something out is better than a hiatus. To make up for the shortness I'll try to get another chapter out this weekend.**

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

By the time ten minutes passed I was able to at least stand, Derek was fully mobile, and just as I hauled Stiles to his feet (him giving a pained grunt that pulled on my heartstrings) what little light was on in the precinct went out as loud blaring alarms pierced the air.

"What's going on?" I shout.

"Get out of here!" Derek yells whilst shoving Stiles and I towards the hall.

"What?" I question. "No!"

"Stiles is hurt," the alpha presses, "get him out of here, keep him safe."

I curse silently at him using my one weakness against me but give a curt nod in concession before taking Stiles by his uninjured arm and leading him towards the hallway, which is slowly but surely filling up with smoke.

"What about my dad?" he shouts over the loud noise; fear palpable in his tone.

"It's the Argents," I say. "We've got time; they won't hurt him, and neither will this smoke. It's-"

"Wolfsbane," Allison interrupts whilst appearing at the end of the hall; crossbow brandished and pointed dangerously aimed at my heart. "Good job, Nessa. I guess our training really did pay off."

I angle myself in front of Stiles and narrow my eyes suspiciously at the girl before us. The air around her doesn't seem right…

"What's going on?" I demand. "Why are you doing this?"

"Where's Derek?" she questions instead of answering my own.

"Why?" I snap.

"If you won't tell me where he is, then get out of my way."

I go to take a step towards her but my movement falters when she takes the safety off of her bow. Whatever Allison's after, it's clear she has no qualms going through me to get but just before I'm about to call her bluff Stiles grabs ahold of my hand and stops me from doing so.

"Let her pass, Nessa," he whispers in an urgent tone.

I pull a face but step aside; eager to calm the nerves shaking my boyfriend's hands. Allison breezes past with a forceful knock of our shoulders, but I keep a strong stance before tugging Stiles forwards toward our awaiting parents. The blaring of Beacon Hill's First Precinct's alarm system grows seemingly louder with each step we make.

"Dad?" Stiles calls; his voice sounding weak and strained.

"Let me check your arm," I demand while guiding him over to a wall; leaning him heavily against it. I take a sharp breath at his soaked shoulder and tighten his makeshift bandage as much as I can. "You're losing a lot of blood," I say; my voice shaking in fright. "We've got to get you to a hospital and-"

"First we get our parents out of here," Stiles interrupts.

"You're in more risk of dying than they are!" I shout angrily; frustrated by his stubbornness and scared out of my mind. "Now either you drive yourself to the hospital or I do it for you- and we both know you'll _surely_ die with me behind the wheel!"

"You get them out of here safely," Stiles orders. "You get _yourself_ out of here safely."

"I will," I promise. "Now go."

As Stiles walked down one end of the smoke-filled hallway my brother ran up the other; panting and obviously panicked.

"I need to get out of here," Scott says; his tone pinched.

"I know," I nod. "But Mom and Mr. Stilinski-"

"I already got them out," my twin interrupts as tears well in his puppy-dog eyes. "Oh my god, oh my _god_ Nessa she knows!"

"What?" I question with a furry of my brow as my hands, dirty with Stiles' blood, brush stray tears away from my brother's shining face. "Scotty, what are you talking about?"

"Mom knows!" he wails. "Jackson was coming right at us, I had to shift and-and now she knows about me! Nessa she knows what I am! And she ran away! _Mom's afraid of me_!"

Tears prickle behind my eyes but I force my emotions down to pull my baby brother into a fierce hug.

"It's gonna be alright," I coo as Scott sobs heartbrokenly into my shoulder. "It'll be alright."

My brother and I walked hand in hand all of the way home; taking the long way to avoid Mom's car which would have surely passed us. As I comforted Scott (about Allison, who acted just as coldly to Scott as she did me, and about our mother) a quiet anger bubbled relentlessly in my gut; waiting to be unleashed the moment my brother and I stepped through our front door. It was an anger so blood-boiling and hateful my skin itched and hands shook. It was an anger so fiery it terrified me. It overrode my worry for Stiles (who would surely be fine), my anxiety over the Argents, and my disappointment over the best/worst birthday of my life. It made my lip curl in disgust and legs to stomp up to my mother's bedroom, where crying so like Scott's could easily be heard. It raised my voice and hurled my anger at Mom with venom I didn't know I possessed. It made me lash out and I… well, I couldn't even bring myself to regret it. Because I was _right_. Because _I am right._

"How dare you!" I screamed.

"Nessa-" Scott began helplessly from the doorway behind me.

"He's your son!" I continue.

"He's a-a monster," Mom responds with a sob.

I know my twin winces without needed to look over my shoulder.

"No," I deny; my voice, for a moment, deathly calm, "_you're _the monster. How dare you. How dare you! He _is your son_!"

"I can't do this," Scott whispered urgently before his frantic footsteps could be heard; fleeing the house and ending in a slam of our front door.

"You knew…" Mom's voice trembled as she rose from her bed, "what he was and you never- you never told me. You never told me what he is!"

"_Who_ he is, is Scott McCall," I snarl whilst taking an intimidating step forwards. "_Who_ he is, is your _fucking_ son!"

"He was shot!" Mom wails hysterically. "He was shot and his face- oh Vanessa his _face_! It changed- he _changed_-!"

"No!" I deny. "He didn't, he didn't!"

"All those times you were hurt," Mom cries. "Oh sweetheart they were _him_, weren't they?"

"Stop it!" I scream. "Say his name- he's still Scott! He's still Scott!"

"I need to go," Mom whispers in a horror-stricken tone.

I watch with wide eyes as she pulls out an old suitcase and begins to frantically pack away unfolded clothes.

"Don't you dare," I whisper in a quivering voice. "Don't you dare leave us like Dad did!"

"Come with me," Mom pleas. "You-you shouldn't stay here with him-"

"I won't abandon him!" I hiss.

"I'm not abandoning anyone-!"

"Yes you are!"

"I'll be at Aunt Maria's," Mom whispers. "Just for a few days. Just to-to collect myself-"

"Don't come back!" I snarl. "If you leave, don't you fucking come back!"

"He's my boy," Mom sobs whilst zippering up her suitcase; speaking more to herself than me. "My baby boy…"

As I watched Mom's car speed away, a lump gathered in my throat more painful than I'd ever imagined. She'd left us. Not permanently, not even unwarrantedly but… but the one parent who stayed _left_. The pain manifesting in my heart knocked the wind clean out of my lungs, and when my chest began to tighten I reached for leftover Xanax before writing up Scott a note; telling him if I wasn't there by the time he came back I was still at the hospital waiting for word about Stiles' wound.

Unfortunately for me I only made it halfway to the bus stop before the panic attack ate away at my meds and my consciousness.


	58. Chapter 55

**Erica Reyes vindictive and selfish sides come out to play, and Vanessa's left to deal with all of the new changes in her life. This chapter is (almost) completely AU but actually one of my favorite pieces for this story. Lots of personal growth for Nessa, which is always a good thing. She's kind of a temperamental bitch. I love it though.**

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

I awoke with a groan and a migraine that pounded with each beat of my heart. What happened? When I opened my eyes I found myself sprawled across my bed; latching onto a floppy bunny Stiles had won me in a crane game too many years ago for the memory to be clear. Daylight was just starting to break; casting a soft glow which illuminated my pale yellow walls. Deliriously I rubbed at my eyes whilst pushing my body upwards; hoping I was waking up on my birthday morning and that yesterday had been a dream.

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

A gasp tore through my throat so violently for a moment I feared my vocal cords would tear in two. My widened eyes looked to my open bedroom door and even though the body there was familiar my heart did not slow.

"Erica," I begin in a guarded tone, "what are you doing here?"

She pouts for a moment and replies, "No 'hello? How've you been? Hey, thanks for scraping my unconscious ass off of the side of the rode and tucking me in?' Come on, Nessa. I thought we were friends."

"Side of the rode?" I echo in confusion with a furrow of my brow. When reality hits I'm rushing to the door with an exclamation of, "Shit! Stiles- I-I have to go see Stiles!"

"_Relax_," Erica drawls while pushing me backwards with surprising force; making me stumble and fall back onto my bed. "I paid Lover Boy a visit a few hours ago; told him you had a bit of a fainting spell and that you'd be in later today."

"And what'd he say?" I press with a scowl.

The blonde snorts before answering, "That if I touched one hair on your pretty little head he'd kill me himself." She smirks deviously and continues, "But I told him I wasn't the one you had to worry about."

"And who is?" I question as my hand reaches inconspicuously for the stake soaked in Wolfsbane (a weapon thanks to TVD I could _actually _use) hidden between my mattresses. Erica is my friend, sure, but after being poisoned by Lydia and threatened by Allison I didn't know who I could trust anymore.

"You'll find out soon enough," the werewolf vaguely replies. "Anyway, I just wanted to come and say goodbye."

"You goin' somewhere?"

Erica smiles brilliantly and answers, "Boyd and I are getting the hell outta Dodge. The Argents are on a revenge binge and my face is too pretty to get caught in the crossfire."

"You knew what you signed up for, or so everyone keeps telling me," I growl as my fingers grasp the stake's rough texture.

"Oh no, I didn't sign up for a dead Victoria Argent-"

"What?" I exclaim in surprise while raising to my feet. "Allison's mom is dead? Who the hell was stupid enough to kill her-?!"

"She killed herself," Erica drawls uninterestedly.

I blink rapidly as the shocking information sinks in whilst whispering, "Why? Why on earth would she do that to Allison?"

"Apparently you're not the only one who'd choose death over lycanthropy."

"_Shut up_," I snap. "You have no idea what you're talking about. I chose death over Peter Hale- and how do you even know about that, anyway?"

Erica smirks before replying, "Everybody talks, Nessa, especially to a pretty face."

"Why did Derek bite Victoria?" I sneer; unhappy with this conversation's turn of direction.

"Why does Derek do anything?" Erica questions in a similar fashion. "For the Golden Wolf, of course!"

"Scott?" I breathe. "Why does my brother have to do with-?"

"The night of the rave, when Victoria was killing Scott? Yeah, a fight ensued and before you know it my alpha's taking a chomp outta the head bitch to save his favorite Omega's ass- _as usual_."

As Erica went off on a tangent about Derek's favoritism my mind raced with the new information I'd been given. Allison's demeanor made sense now; her coldness towards me and more importantly towards my brother but… but surely she couldn't blame us for what had happened, right? It was her mother who tried to kill Scott, not the other way around. Allison wouldn't have switched sides, right? _Right_?

"…and anyways Boyd thinks he heard another pack last night," Erica babbles, "so we're going to see if we can-"

"So what," I interrupt, "you're just going to leave Derek? It's them they're after, Erica! If you guys leave he'll be completely defenseless against them!"

"And if we stay we'll die!"

"He is your alpha," I snarl. "He cured you of epilepsy. Surely this new you has at least a _small _amount of humanity-!"

"My humanity is what's making me leave," Erica growls in return as her eyes momentarily flash amber. After a moment of mutual glaring she backs off with a scowl of disgust. "I thought you'd understand," she says.

"You thought wrong," I reply.

"Whatever. Good luck, Vanessa. A girl as weak as you is gonna need it."

And with those parting words, Erica Reyes was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXX

By nine o'clock I was rushing in the hospital doors and already badgering a young nurse named Hanna to let me see Stiles. I was pleased to find Scott already with our best friend; sharing a laugh and making fun of Stiles' poor Pokemon Black gaming skills. If one thing good came out of Allison's assumed betrayal, it was the bromance blooming before my very eyes. For a moment I stood in the hospital room's doorway and silently watched my boys chat with tears in my eyes; saddened by the fact I'd be ruining this seemingly peaceful moment but knowing that I had to. After a few seconds Scott's heightened senses caught wind of my presence and his dark eyes met mine as laughter died in his throat. Stiles noticed my brother's sudden change of demeanor, so he followed Scott's line of vision only to brighten instead of wilt as Scott had.

"Nessa!" Stiles greeted with a happy cheer as the Nintendo DS in hand let out frantic beeps.

"Hey," I all-but whisper while pushing off of his hospital room's doorway and entering fully.

"I'm going down to the food court," Scott announces suddenly whilst getting to his feet. "You guys want anything?"

You mean other than the time alone you're obviously trying to give us?

"No thanks," I smile sweetly.

"I'm good," Stiles nods.

"Right," Scott says. "Okay, see you in a few."

I wait until my twin is shutting the wooden door behind him to take a seat at Stiles' bedside.

"So," I begin; my voice shaking in distress, "how are you?"

Stiles packs away his gaming device and answers, "It's like you said; a through-and-through. Just needed a few stitches to close up the holes and a few painkillers. Doc says I'll be fine in no time."

"Good," I breathe while eyeing my fiddling hands. "A-and your dad?"

"The sheriff again," Stiles replies; a smile obvious in his voice. "They gave him some kind of medal too, for figuring out who the 'serial killer' was."

"So did they arrest Matt?" I ask as my eyes snap upwards to meet his.

Stiles' smile immediately falters at my question before he responds, "Vanessa… Matt's dead. Gerard killed him- drowned him, actually. Didn't Scott tell you-?"

"No," I sigh while tugging harshly at the routes of my hair in frustration. "I was dealing with… other things last night."

My words seemed to spark a light in Stiles' eyes, and this time it's his turn to question me.

"What the hell happened last night after I went to the hospital?" he asked. "Why did Erica tell me she found you face down on the side of the rode?"

I heave out a long sigh and take one of his hands in mind before answering.

"I'm not so sure, really," I say. "Somehow Mom caught sight of Scott in his wolf form, and by the time we got home she'd already made up her mind about him." At Stiles' look of misunderstanding I elaborate in a whisper. "She called him a monster," I say. "I'm not really sure what I said when I was yelling at her- I was so angry… she wouldn't say Scott's name and-" I break off to catch my pitched breath and calm myself; something Stiles helps me do when he traces small circles on the back of my hand with his.

"When she left I told her not to come back," I announce gravely after taking a moment to collect myself.

We sit in silence for a few seconds before he responds.

"I guess I can't really blame her," Stiles sighs.

"What?" I ask sharply. "How can you say that?"

At my venomous glare my boyfriend quickly backtracks.

"Well I mean," he stumbles, "when Scott first turned we- the both of us- we were both _scared_ of him, right?"

"He wasn't in control then," I refute. "It's different now-"

"_I _know that," Stiles interrupted, "and _you_ know that… but your mom's new to this. I mean, all she knows is that her son was human one second and then some scary looking teen wolf the next."

"Exactly Stiles," I snarl, "_he's her son!"_

His eyes soften on me, and I know by the way his gaze feels on mine he can tell my reaction is much more than just my mother's newfound knowledge.

"She's also human," he whispers as his free hand reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. "And she's coming back, Nessa. She didn't leave you."

I know Stiles is right; Mom wasn't wrong for freaking out but…

I bite my lip before it has the chance to wobble and promptly change the subject so I don't have to deal with this-this overwhelming feel of abandonment welling in my chest.

"Why didn't you tell me you dad was fired?" I whisper.

And, finally, I address the elephant only I knew was in the room.

**VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION POSED IN THIS AN SO PLEASE READ!**

**Another short chapter… I'd say I'm sorry but I've put our two in two days so I figure them together equates to one of my normal chapters which isn't so bad.**

**Next chapter will also be almost all AU; Vanessa has a lot of things she needs to catch up on. After I wrap up season 2 (there is only one real episode left, I think) it's gonna be the wedding and then a short hiatus and then maybe complete AU season 3. I'm still not sure yet… I kind of want to wait until the premier of Season 3 so I can see if I want to work with the show or stray off. Gotta research all of my options, right?**

**Let me know what you think in the reviews and DFTBA!**


	59. Chapter 56

**There are some time differences in this chapter from the actual show Teen Wolf but I think I've done it in a way so everything still makes sense. Major therapeutic/ supportive Stinessa in this first bit in place of the counselor in the series. They're really maturing, both in their relationship and as people. It's a nice change of pace in this post; Vanessa is the one doing the comforting and Stiles is laid up in a hospital bed feeling the guilt (I'm sure) he's been hiding. Ugh, I ship Stinessa SO HARD.**

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

As Stiles' shoulders tensed I attempted to pull my hand out from under his, only to halt when I felt his grip tighten. When I questionably met his eyes there was a look of desperation and guilt lying there; making me forgive Stiles' deception before he even had the opportunity to apologize.

"How long have you known?" he questioned quietly.

"Since last Sunday," I reply just as softly.

Stiles nods and heaves a tired sigh. "Yeah… that makes sense."

"I tried not to be obvious," I say. "I was hoping maybe you'd… well, that you'd tell me the truth. Y'know, eventually."

He winces at the accusation laced in my tone but doesn't refute it, nor do I apologize. We share a long look of understanding before Stiles speaks up again.

"I wanted to tell you-"

"No you didn't," I interrupt; clenching his fingers tightly for a moment before letting go altogether. "If you wanted to tell me you would have."

He sets his jaw, clenches his hands in to fists, and then gives a nod of guilty concession.

"You're right," he says. "I didn't want you to know."

"Why?" I demand.

Stiles gives a bitter laugh that makes my heart clench sadly at the foreign sound. "And let you down again? Let you know not only have I managed to fuck you and your brother's lives up, but now my dad's-?"

"_Don't_ talk like that!" I shout disbelievingly.

"Why?" he challenges. "Because it's the truth? If I hadn't dragged you guys out that night-!"

"I wouldn't have fallen in love with you," I finish; my tone hard and firm. "You wouldn't have fallen in love with me-"

"You're wrong," Stiles interrupts; his tone quiet yet hard. "Maybe not about you but… but about me. It would have happened. It _already _happened-"

"Not like this," I deny. "We are _strong_ Stiles," I say whilst grasping his hand firmly in my own, "because of everything we've been through _we are strong_. Throughout everything- Stiles look at me!- everything has made us stronger; better people, even!"

"Stop trying to comfort me," he snaps tearfully. "Stop trying to make me feel better about what I've done-"

"What you've done," I whisper while taking a seat on his hospital bed; moving my hands to his face to force his eyes into mine, "is make me _happy_. What you've done is almost singlehandedly bring down _murderers_. Stiles, don't you see it? Don't you _see _how proud I am of you?"

"You shouldn't be," he mumbles as my thumbs brush away fallen tears.

"You took a bullet for me," I smile. "If I was anything but proud I'd be an idiot."

"I love you," Stiles whispers as he reaches out to toy with the bracelet he'd gifted me last night.

I kiss his forehead tenderly before replying, "I love you too."

…And that was what it came down to, wasn't it? It would be our love that insures we win whatever upcoming battle was headed our way. Matt may have been killed, but I knew this wasn't the end but rather its beginning. Gerard was a greedy, vengeful man and while Derek's pack abandoned him I knew when it came down to the wire Scott, Stiles, and I would join him. My brother may be a werewolf but he had more humanity than Argent senior, as did I. Selfish as I sometimes felt what I did I did out of the love for my family and friends. That loyalty, and more importantly that love, would see us through. Whatever hurdles were thrown our way; whether it be friend (like Lydia and Allison) or foe we would all make it through so long as we made the journey together.

"You two done being gross and couple-y?" my twin questioned suddenly whilst entering the room.

"Yeah," Stiles chuckles with a sniff as I leant away to greet my brother with a smile, only for it to immediately fade.

"Is that blood on your shirt?"

XXXXXXXX

Two quiet weeks passed, and as much as I enjoyed the down time my gut was telling me this was the calm before a storm. Stiles' wound was healing remarkably: his stitches have already begun to dissolve and he had full mobility, meaning he was back to everyday lacrosse practice. Finstock was riding all of the boys hard, the upcoming match is the _finals_ after all, and as eager as Stiles felt I was equally as worried. The deal I made with Coach Finstock seemed like a lifetime ago but with the way practices were going I feared Stiles may actually get field time. My boyfriend may have been on the mend but a bullet wound is a bullet wound, no matter its fatality.

Mom returned last Monday, just as she promised. We seldom spoke other than quiet greetings, but she and Scott seemed to have returned to normal. They bickered nearly as much as I did with him just as they always had, and while at first it seemed forced now I wasn't so sure. Their smiles were coming easier and Mom rearranged her schedule to have tomorrow night off. Over dinner she told Scott she was proud of him for leading the lacrosse team to the finals… I could have sworn I'd even seen tears in her eyes.

Irene dropped my finished Maid of Honor dress of three days ago along with my shoes and clutch. She offered to take me out to dinner, and over chocolate cheesecake I told her I'd be getting myself ready for the wedding. The redhead protested at first but quickly accepted my condition. The rest of our small get together was over discussion about the baby which I'd found to be a girl.

Allison avoided everyone at all cost, and even though I'd tried to speak to my friend; ran the trails we did usually on Tuesdays and Thursdays, all of my extended hands came up empty.

None of Derek's pack had come to school, not that I blamed them. I could only hope they were still around though.

Lydia went on as she always had. Scott and Stiles were wary of her, not that I blamed them, but they sat at our normal lunch table at my request. Jackson continued to sit at the table's head, but he never spoke; just quietly brewed there and ignored all of Lydia's advances.

I was tense, and everyone could see it. While Scott told me to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop Stiles told me I was "hyper vigilant". I just thought the way I was feeling was a consequence of being aware… or at least aware of what my brother wanted me to know. Scott was keeping me out a very important loop; something Stiles noticed as well. That day at the hospital something happened, my twin had been _stabbed_, but Scott refused to talk about it- not to me and not to Stiles. But despite my ignorance I knew whatever was going on behind my back had some seriously bad mojo; sending me into even deeper spirals of worry.

"Scotty?" I call whilst entering his bedroom, only to sigh when I realize he was still in the shower. "Damn it," I mutter before heaving out a sigh and searching for the Chemistry notes he'd borrowed.

Just as I bent over to grasp what looked like my binder under a pile of unwashed clothes, something coiled around my neck and pulled me into the air; sending a gasp flying from my lips.

"Gerard!" I exclaimed while grabbing at the Kanima's slimey tail and glaring at the elderly man entering my brother's bedroom.

"Well if it isn't my favorite McCall," the Argent smiles as he takes a seat in a far off chair.

"If you like me so much," I struggle, "why don't you call Salazar off, then?"

"Because my granddaughter taught me all about your little get-togethers," Gerard begins, "and although I know you're no match for me I don't want to waste the energy. Gotta rest these old bones, y'know."

"Can't say I do," I reply in a strangled tone before silencing altogether at Jackson tightening his grip.

Okay, breathe Vanessa. Just breathe. Focus on getting the air in and out of your lungs. In and out, in and out- that's it!

Christ, is it just me or does my conscience all of a sudden sound like Stiles?

My twin exited his bathroom and immediately looked to my reddening face with wide eyes before gazing down to a smirking Gerard.

"Scott," the Argent greeted, "we've got some things we need to discuss."

My bother simply tensed and tightened his hands into fists before releasing his grip; displaying razor sharp claws sprouting from his fingers. At the threat Jackson once more tightened his grip, and I let out an involuntary chocking sound because of it.

"Come now, Scott," Gerard began; his voice teasing, "we both know who has the upper hand here."

"Let her go," Scott whispers in response; pain clear in his tone.

"Can't do that," Gerard breezes, "but let her live? Well, that's up to you."

When the Kanima's tail coils even tighter, this time I gasp desperately for air as tears swarm my vision. I knew in my heart of hearts that while the calm was over, this was a mere drizzle for the storm that was about to come.

"What do you want?" my twin questioned.

"I want to talk," the Argent replies. "You haven't been answering your phone."

"Let her go and we can talk about whatever you want," Scott tried to bargain.

"I want the same thing that I have always wanted," Gerard began while standing and walking casually towards me. "I want Derek and his pack!"

"They're all in hiding," Scott informs the elderly man. "How am I supposed to know where they are?"

"I think with the proper motivation," I spluttered and gasped violently this time, "you can draw them out. And if you haven't noticed I now have a fairly impressive means by which I can motivate you."

"Go to hell!" I gasped. "Don't tell him anything-!"

My brave words died at my throat at my vision began to swim from lack of oxygen. Whether or not my brother headed my words was unclear to me, being as my limited air supply forced me to black out.

XXXXXXXX

When I came to it was to the feel of a cool washcloth being dabbed across my neck and upper collar bones. My head pounded heavily with a migraine with each beat of my heart, and in an attempt to soothe the ache at my temples I didn't go to open my eyes. Well, the ache and to eavesdrop on a conversation I wasn't intended to hear.

"Whatever that man wants, Scott," Mom began in a tearful voice, "you give it to him."

"It's not that easy," my brother sighs in response.

"I don't care," Mom responds; sounding more choked up than she just had. "_Look_ at your sister, Scott. She's hurt because of this-!"

"I don't know if I can do what he's asking me to do," Scott replied sounding equally as upset.

"You can," I speak up suddenly whilst opening my eyes; my voice sounding raw and throat feeling sore, "but you won't. I won't allow it."

I sat up in my brother's bed and batted my family's outstretched hands away stubbornly.

"They threatened to kill you, Nessa-" Scott began.

"And I would rather die than give the Argent's my friends' heads on a silver platter," I interrupt.

"You don't know what you're saying," Mom begins.

"Yes I do," I cut in. "I'm not burying any of my friends; not tonight and not for a very, very long time."

"So it's fine that I bury you instead!" Mom exclaims as a sob rips through her heaving chest.

"I'm not weak," I snap. "And Scott wouldn't let me just _die_."

"Vanessa-" my twin starts only for me to interrupt him once more.

"We're not doing this right now," I say while getting to my feet. "I've got to go get ready for the game."

I heard my family's distinct sighs just before my bedroom door clicked shut behind me, and grimaced at the fresh bruises dotting my neck. Okay, infinity scarf here I come…

**AN**

**Review guys! For serious I'm getting so discouraged. I haven't heard like, any feedback save three reviewers (who I thank and appreciate greatly).**

**I mean, what do you guys think of what's been happening? How did you like Stiles' birthday gift to Vanessa? How about Vanessa and Mellissa's fight? How do you think Vanessa's going to react when she finds out Peter's been resurrected by **_**Lydia**_** of all people? I feel like I'm talking to an empty room over here!**

**I'm not trying to be one of those authors who withhold chapters until x amount of reviews but, honestly, if I feel as if people aren't taking an interest in this story then I'm going to leave State Of Grace off at the end of season two.**

**Anyways, feedback is appreciated and DFTBA**


	60. Chapter 57

**Important Notice: I've changed Vanessa's faceclaim back to Sarah Hyland. I just think she's youthful and that it's more believable that she's related to Scott and Melissa over the previous faceclaim. **

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

When my mother and I silently trudged up the lacrosse field I noticed the glances she was sending the locker room's way. For a moment I was brought back to the night Peter Hale had trapped us in the school, and the death I had witnessed, but chants said by teenagers brought me back to the present.

"Go," I urged Mom with a sigh. "I'll find us some seats."

"Are you sure?" she questions; already stepping towards the building I'd nodded towards.

"Yeah," I smile. "If you see Stiles, wish him luck for me."

Mom nodded in agreement before we parted ways. My eyes scanned the filling bleachers until they caught sight of Lydia's strawberry blonde head. We smiled in unison and I was waved eagerly over by her manicured hand.

"Lydia!" I greet with a grin before turning to greet the familiar man standing at her left. "Hi Sheriff," I say excitedly whilst moving between the two; overwhelmed by sudden nostalgia. Here's to hoping this get together isn't ruined by Lydia announcing more plans of my deflowering Stiles. We got away with it once, but I didn't think our luck would continue.

The pair returns my happy greetings before Lydia's gaze switched from ecstatic to scrutinizing.

"Where's your sign?" she questions with a frown.

"Uhm," I stutter with a furrow of my brow, "isn't it _what's your sign?_"

The blonde retaliates with a roll of her hazel eyes. "I'm not trying to pick you up, stupid. Where's your 'Go Nials!' sign?"

"_Stiles_," I correct with a glare. "And I didn't think I needed one?"

"Vanessa McCall," Lydia began in a disappointed tone whilst placing her hands on her hips, "you mean to tell me that your boyfriend is playing in the lacrosse state finals and you didn't make him a _sign_?"

I chew on the corner of my lip self-consciously and question, "Is that bad?"

Was Stiles _expecting_ a sign? Did he want me to make one of those tacky, glittery, neon miniature billboards just as Lydia once did for Jackson? Would he be disappointed that I didn't? I mean, when he drove me home from school I'd given him a kiss for good luck (which he'd kind of demanded, not that I'm complaining) but what if that wasn't enough? Oh god, Lydia's right I'm a horrible girlfriend and-

"Melissa," Sheriff Stilinski greets my mother with a warm smile; taking me from my worried thoughts.

Upon noticing my mother's sullen expression I can't help but furrow my eyebrow in concern.

"Mom," I begin in a questioning tone, "what's wrong?"

"Scott's not playing tonight's game," she announces with a frown.

"What?" Lydia interrupts with urgency laced in her high-pitched tone. "But he's the best player on the team! We'll _lose_ without him!"

"Why would Finstock bench him?" I ask.

"I don't know," Mom replies before looking pointedly to Beacon Hills High's oncoming principle, "but I have a feeling it wasn't his idea."

"I don't care whose idea it was!" Lydia pouts. "We're gonna lose-!"

"Don't be so sure," I murmur optimistically as the team steps onto the field.

"If the team's short one player," Sheriff Stilinski begins in a hopeful voice.

I spot the man's son and smile much-too largely at the sight of him before continuing, "Stiles will most likely get field time!"

"Bet you're regretting not making that sign, huh?" Lydia teases.

"Shut up," I snap with an irritated glare, making her laugh with sadistic amusement.

The crowd begins to settle as first-string players from both sides take to the field. Captains shake hands, sticks are knocked together, and the game begins. For a while I watch uninterestedly, unamused by the game whilst neither my brother nor Stiles are in it, and hum along in agreement to whatever statistic Lydia is spewing. But then, in usual fashion, I look to Stiles and begin to observe him conversing with my benched twin.

From my angle and distance I can't make out much other than half of his profile, but I enjoy the view nonetheless. He's talking with his hands in the usual way, and I can see a knee bouncing with nervousness that makes my lips turn upwards and cheeks warm. He's adorable. I mean, I've always known that but there are just these moments where I turn into an average hormonal teenage girl and kind of want to jump my boyfriend's bones- and now is most definitely one of them.

I definitely have a thing for him in that jersey, that's for sure.

And then, mortifyingly, Stiles looks over to me (mid love-struck sigh, chin in my hand and all) and gives a smirk so pleased with himself I resist the urge to vomit.

"Oh my god," I mumble in embarrassment while turning my head away so quickly I'm afraid I'll develop whiplash.

"What?" Lydia questions urgently; obviously afraid she'd missed some sort of lacrosse play.

"He knows," I groan while peeking back over to my boyfriend only to find him still staring, but now laughing at my painfully obvious embarrassment.

"Who knows what?" my friend asks with confusion.

I make sure my mother and the sheriff aren't listening before I reply bluntly, "Stiles knows I wanna bang him."

"Vanessa," Lydia starts plainly whilst giving me a very unimpressed look, "everyone knows that."

"_Excuse me_?" I splutter with a dropped jaw. "I'm not- not obvious or anything!"

"No," Lydia replies sarcastically, "because that longing gaze you just fixed him was oh-so conspicuous."

"I hate you," I snap. "Now shut up and go back to your game."

The strawberry blonde smirks but does as she's told; amusement sparking her eyes as she stared out into the field.

Pfft, Lydia has no idea what she's talking about. I'm inconspicuous as fuck; a goddam _super sleuth._

Bitch.

"Oh my god," Mr. Stilinski suddenly breathed; catching me by surprise.

I look from Lydia to him before following his eyes to see Coach Finstock pulling Greenburg and ordering Stiles to take his spot. My chest swells with pride and a laugh escapes my lips when I notice my boyfriend's incredulous expression. As Stiles scrambles to grab his gear I get to my feet with an euphoric cheer; clapping and grinning like a mad woman.

"My son is on the field!" Sheriff Stilinski cries victoriously while raising a clenched fist into the air.

I giggle at the man's enthusiasm before pulling him into a tight hug. "Go Stiles!" I shout after pulling away; my hands clapping so quickly they're blurs.

After pulling on his helmet Stiles looks over to his father and I and mutters to himself. Having noticed a tick of his shoulder (a tell-tale sign of his fragile nerves) I pull the sheriff down and try to save him from feeling embarrassment and pressure; mouthing 'you can do it!' whilst doing so.

And when a striped man blew his metal whistle, signaling the second half of State Finals, I began to _actually_ pay attention. Unfortunately that meant I caught Stiles' tackle after being so happy to catch the ball, he forgot to move. As the sheriff cringed simultaneously with the crowd I hid a giggle behind my hand.

"He's probably just warming up," Mom said helpfully with a contradicting grimace.

"God, I hope so," Lydia murmured in response.

For the next few plays Stiles, to be brutally honest, sucked. Like, sucked _hard_, and with each failure on his part the crowd (more so Lydia than anyone else) grew more and more frustrated as I grew more and more proud. It didn't matter that right now my boyfriend wasn't playing so well because I knew he'd get better, and so instead of becoming wary or doubting his ability I soaked in the entirely too amusing images of Stiles being tackled, stumbling over his own feet, and generally just embarrassing himself. It was just so, for lack of a better term, _cute_. Or maybe so Stiles, although I guess "cute" and "Stiles" are kind of synonymous, huh?

The whistle blew, and I noticed as the opposing time called a timeout to make a few substitutions Isaac Lahey snuck onto the field; garbed in his lacrosse uniform and a Derek-inspired smirk.

My body tensed on its own accord as I watched my brother and Isaac converse. Tonight was the night Derek's betas were supposed to be making their break for it, and I knew if Isaac hadn't joined in Erica and Boyd would be much more exposed to any threat. Come to think of it, where were the Argents? Gerard is here, obviously, but what about Allison and Chris? They always attended games, it was expected of every Beacon Hills citizen to come due to the town's strange fascination with lacrosse and for them to be absent was an abnormality.

My eyes scanned the packed crowd of onlookers to double-check Allison and her father were absent, and after a few sweeps I decided they were. A nagging feeling began to eat away at the back of my mind and panic set it. This couldn't be just coincidence, right?

Isaac took the field, the whistle was blown, and once more the game was one. I watched in confusion and horror as Isaac began tackled Beacon Hills' own players, but after catching my brother's eye and begin nodded assuredly to I realized this was part of a plan. Even though I didn't usually trust my brother's planning, I let this one go; knowing that whatever loop Scott had been keeping me out of was causing this…

I just hope Stiles wasn't a team member on this hit list.

After four replacements and Isaac were down Coach Finstock had no choice but to put my brother on the field. Apparently I wasn't the only female McCall to smell something fishy because before my brother could step away from the bench Mom was already over to him; seemingly urgent questions spewing from her mouth.

"What's going on with them?" Lydia questioned while eyes my mother and twin curiously with a frown.

"She's probably just warning him to be careful," I lie in response.

When Mom returns I give her a questioning look, only to be rewarded with a reassuring smile. I didn't know what she was trying to convey exactly, but with the look we shared all of my worries soothed. I returned the grin as the referee started the game once more.

With Scott on the field, plays became more vicious from both sides. Having both co-captains on the field seemingly raised our boys' moral, while the other team just continued to aggressively tackle players left and right. Jackson took part in taking my brother down, but I paid them no mind knowing Scott could heal. My attention was solely on Stiles, who'd just hit the ground with surprising force. I had no doubt that the air had just been knocked out of him by the brunt impact of Beacon Hills' still-frozen ground.

Unfortunately my worry for Stiles delayed my realization that both Isaac (who Jackson had undoubtedly paralyzed) and Gerard had completely disappeared.

"Scott," I whispered from behind cupped hands; knowing my brother would be able to hear me, "I know you're in the middle of a game right now but Isaac and Gerard are missing and I've got a very bad feel-"

My brother was sneaking off of the field before I even had a chance to finish.

"What are you doing?" Lydia asked while eyeing me strangely.

"Uh," I stumbled while lowering my hands back into my lap, "praying."

"Well I hope it works," Lydia sighed while turning her attention back to the field. "Look who's got the ball."

It seemed as if the whole crowd went silent as Stiles sprinted towards the opposing team's goal, the lacrosse ball in possession. I reached out anxiously for Lydia's hands and licked my lips in anticipation as my boyfriend grew nearer and nearer to the net only a few yards off. I then began to smile when I noticed he was actually _screaming_ in fright while glancing over his shoulder to the players chasing blood-thirstily after him.

Oh my god, I love him.

"Oh crap," the sheriff mumbled over Stiles' screams; making me snort in unmasked amusement only to gasp in panic when Stiles stopped just before the goal.

"Shoot it, Stilinski!" Coach Finstock roared; for once saying Stiles' surname correctly. "Shoot the ball you idiot!"

When my boyfriend still made no move to do so, only staring frozenly at the oncoming players, I got to my feet, cupped my hands on the sides of my mouth, and yelled as loudly as I could, "You can do it, Stiles!"

And then, to my upmost joy, _he did. _As the crowd got to their feet in victorious cheers Stiles did the most cliché thing I'd ever seen; pointed me out in the crowd with a glowing smile just like all of those football players did in every teenage-based chick flick back in the eighties. My response was laughter and a flourished kiss being blown his way before the ball was rescued from the net Stiles just threw it into; resuming the game.

After that first goal Stiles played just as well as Jackson or even Scott. He scored left and right; dancing around players with grace I didn't know he possessed. With each delivered goal the crowd grew more and more rallied behind Stiles, and my smile grew wider and wider. As I watched my boyfriend dominate the lacrosse field I forgot about all of our problems; the Argents, Derek's wayward pack, everything. All I could focus on in that moment was how insanely proud I felt for both him and being his girlfriend.

There was this gushy, romantic side of me that had been gushing since Stiles' gloved index finger pointed my way after that first goal. It made me swell with an unknown euphoria, more powerful than I'd ever experienced. It was _me_ Stiles was pointing to- not anyone else. It was _me_, his girlfriend, his best friend, and his partner in crime. The feeling of knowing the person you love thinks of you as their's as much as you think they're yours is… breathtaking. I don't think I'd ever been happier.

With only thirty seconds on the clock Stiles scored the last goal of tonight, the _winning_ goal of tonight, and while his team pounced and joined him in front of the opposing team's goal it was me Stiles looked to; with a smile so wide it stretched nearly as far as my own.

"He did it!" Lydia cried victoriously while shaking my shoulders erratically.

"Hell yeah he did!" I cheered in response as we hugged with joy.

By the time my friend and I separated ten seconds was left on the clock, and when I turned out to the field once more in hopes of catching Stiles' eye again I noticed Jackson menacingly stalking over and eyeing my brother from across the way. My stomach dropped when I saw horror plastered across Scott's face, and my joy quickly turned to dread.

What the hell was going on?

A gasp tore through my lips when Jackson's gloves dropped; revealing his claws as his eyes flashed to that familiar Kanima yellow. He wasn't transforming out there, was he? Why would Gerard make him _do_ that-?

"Mom!" I cried panicked as the stadium lights suddenly turned out; reminding me of Winter Formal. From the way Lydia's hand suddenly clutched mine, I could tell she was reminded of that gruesome night too.

A single scream pierced the air, and suddenly everyone was panicking. People pushed, fled from the bleachers and to their cars, and medical staff rushed onto the field with terrified urgency.

"Scott!" I screamed, just as Lydia screeched her ex-boyfriend's name in horror.

Lydia and I were quickly separated from the sheriff and my mother, but due to our conjoined hands I followed her as she sprinted onto the lacrosse field; horror in her tearing eyes. I caught sight of my mother and brother somewhere off to the left but paid them no mind. Instead all I could focus on was Jackson's still body sprawled across the field with his chest unmoving.

"Jackson!" Lydia screamed as we infiltrated the wall of lacrosse players surrounding said boy. "What's going on? What's going on?!"

"Lydia," I whisper in horror as my mother joins the small crowd; kneeling beside Jackson and putting her ear to his chest.

"He's not breathing," Mom informs Coach Finstock gravely before her nimble fingers reached for the still teen's neck. "There's no pulse," she announces after a tense moment.

We all watch in terror when my mother lift's the bottom of his jersey to reveal bloodied/gruesome gashes that make Lydia's breathing grow even more frantic.

"There's blood," she gasps. "There's blood on him!"

"Vanessa," Mom shouts as she begins preforming CPR on Jackson's bloodied body, making me jump in surprise. "Get down here!" she orders.

I fall to my knees and tilt Jackson's head upwards without her having to ask. Candy Striper CPR 101; clear the airwave of the victim as another person begins compressions.

"Where's Stiles?" I hear Mr. Stilinski whisper from overhead.

My eyes snap upwards to the frantic man as he spins in circles looking for his son.

"Where's Stiles?" he repeats; this time louder. "Where's my son? _Where the hell is my son_?"

As my own eyes scan the remaining crowd a knot forms in my throat, and suddenly it isn't only Lydia's frightened screams that fill the air.


	61. Chapter 58

**I just had to post this as soon as it was done. Throughout this whole story I've been rewatching the show and Gerard beating up Stiles gets me so bad. Like, ugly cry and snot everywhere. It's horrible. I think the next chapter will be the end of season two, then comes the wedding, and then the dreaded alpha pack. DUN DUN DUN. Anyways, review! It's been awesome hearing from you guys!**

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

"How long has he been unresponsive?" an EMT questioned my mother urgently as he and a partner rushed onto the field.

"Seven minutes," she answers whilst continuing compressions.

I caught the look the EMTs shared and knew immediately what they were thinking. Jackson was gone and he wasn't coming back.

"Alright," the man began while turning to his partner, "we're going to need a body bag and a stretcher."

"What?" Lydia questions from over my shoulder. "No, no you don't need a body bag! Jackson- Jackson's gonna be find he-"

"And clear the field," the EMT then orders as an afterthought.

For a moment I continued to suspend Jackson's neck and my mother continued to push on his chest but after watching her expression grow grimmer I knew our efforts were for naught. _Jackson was gone and he wasn't coming back_.

"Vanessa," Mom whispered as I helped Lydia stand, "I'm riding with the ambulance to the morgue-"

"Why?" I question while scrubbing my useless tears away so I can meet her eyes.

"I have to give a statement," she answers, and even though I can see through her lie I don't call it out. There are more important things to do right now. "You get Lydia out of here," my mother orders. "I'll meet you at home."

"Okay," I nod before leading my sobbing friend over to the parking lot where her car was sitting.

I'd only just begun Drivers' Ed, but in a small town like Beacon Hills the roads were never jammed; especially since nearly everyone had headed home ten minutes earlier. I loaded Lydia into the passenger's seat before climbing in myself, and while I pulled the Prius' keys from her purse with one hand my other was pulling a phone to my ear; Stiles' number already dialed.

It went straight to voicemail.

"Stiles it's Vanessa," I began in a shaking voice; trying to speak over Lydia's frantic cries, "I don't know where you are or if you know what's happened but- but Jackson's dead and I just, I _really_ need to know if you're okay or not. Please, please call me back when you get this, okay? Please I-"

Loud knocking on the driver's side window interrupted my call, and in shock I quickly let my phone fall to Lydia's car's floor.

"Mr. Stilinski," I greeted as I rolled down the door to my left's window while dusting away my tears. "What-what's up?"

The man's familiar eyes flickered from Lydia to me before questioning, "Are you girls alright? I can drive you home in the cruiser if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary, Sheriff," I dismiss. "I'm just going to take Lydia home and stay with her until my mom can pick me up."

Mr. Stilinski gives a nod and gulps before replying, "Okay. And Vanessa if- if you hear from him-"

"You'll be the first person I call," I promise. "Don't worry, he'll show up- I'm… I'm sure he's fine."

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue as if fell from my lips, and I silently prayed my hands would stop shaking. There was a terrible feeling welling in my chest that told me wherever my boyfriend was he was_ far_ from fine.

"It's just that his Jeep is here, and I doubt he could have gotten far on foot so-"

Whatever terrified look crossed my features silenced the worried words falling hastily from the sheriff's lips as I deduced that where Stiles had gone, he'd been taken by force and only one guess who'd taken him.

"Just get home safe," Mr. Stilinski ordered before backing away from Lydia's car with a sad smile and nod.

"Will do," I whispered before rolling the door's window up and nervously turning the leather steering wheel; trying my hardest to block out Lydia's heartbroken cries and failing miserably.

"_Good luck_," Erica had said. _"A girl as weak as you is gonna need it._"

As I began to drive in the Argent's house's direction I promised myself I'd prove her wrong. I would be strong. I'd do it for Stiles, I'd do it for Lydia, I'd do it for Jackson, and most of all I'd do it for myself. I just hoped my best was good enough.

XXX

"Wha-what are we doing here?" Lydia sniffles as I park a block down from Allison's home; behind a bush and out of sight. "I thought you were taking me home!

"The Argents have Stiles," I reply; my voice hard and devoid of any emotion as I unclip my belt and unlock the Prius' doors. "I need to get him out of there-"

"But if you know where he is then why don't you call his dad-?"

"Lydia don't play dumb," I snap as my eyes narrow on said girl, "because we both know you aren't. You poisoned us with Wolfsbane on my birthday, and even though I'm not sure why I know _you _know there's more to this than meets the eye. Now we can sit here and play Twenty Questions about why this is happening or I can go inside, save my boyfriend from whatever _torture_ the Argents are putting him through, and answer whatever you have to ask later."

I hadn't meant to sound so harsh; my tone wasn't intended to be so hard but I had to get to Stiles and _fast_.

Apparently the promise of knowledge was too much for Lydia to resist, and she gave a weak nod.

"You tell me everything I need to know," she orders sternly before her lips pursed.

"Everything," I echo before exiting her car; slamming the door loudly behind me despite my better judgment.

My steps up to the Argents' front door are quick and quiet. It takes less than a minute to get there and nearly three to pick the door's lock with a spare bobby pin Allison had told me to keep on my person at all times. I slinked through the brick home's halls tensely, cursing myself for not having a concealed weapon. As I passed their family room my eyes caught sight of a fire poker, and I grabbed it without hesitation.

From the basement's door I heard the sound of fist pounding flesh and muffled screams- whether they came from Stiles I didn't know but what I _did_ know was that I had to stop whatever was going on down there. With my heartbeat pounding loudly in my ears I stepped carefully down the cellar's stairs; raising the iron rod like a baseball player would hold a bat. When I caught sight of Gerard mercilessly beating Stiles to a bloodied pulp I struck the elderly man's back without pausing to think.

"Ah," Gerard groaned while turning to face me with an eerie smile. "I was wondering when my favorite McCall would show up. That's a nice arm you have, Vanessa."

"_Leave him alone_," I hissed lethally as my teeth clenched together in rage.

Gerard eyed me carefully for a moment before nodding complacently. "Fine," he says. "I think my message was received. What do you think, Stiles?"

My boyfriend responded by spitting up blood onto the floor before glaring hatefully up at the wrinkles man. Gerard chuckled before passing me and trudging up the staircase I'd just descended. After watching to make sure he wasn't closing nor locking the door behind him I rushed to Stiles' side; dropping the fire poker to the cement floor with a clang.

"Help them first," Stiles wheezes while batting my outstretched hands away.

"Them?" I echo in confusion before looking over to my right; gasping at the sight I was met with.

Erica and Boyd had been strung up with electrical wires with their mouths taped shut and blood splotches smeared across their clothes. As I got to my feet my eyes scanned the area for some sort of lever to pull; knowing if I tried to free them any other way I'd be fried.

In the corner of the room on a small table I spotted a remote control with a lightning bolt as a decoration. Two buttons were atop of it; one red and one black, and after a sharp intake of breath I took hold of the rectangle and pressed down on the smaller button. To my relief the electrical current cut off from Erica and Boyd's bindings; enabling them to claw their way out.

As the werewolves' feet safely touched down I went to Stiles' side once more. This time my shaking hands weren't pushed away.

"How bad is it?" Stiles questions as I hear Erica and Boyd ripping the tape covering their mouths off from behind us.

"Black eye, split lip, swollen cheek," I list as my eyes scan his body for further injury. "Do you hurt anywhere else?"

"Just my face," he winces as I help him stand. Once on his feet he backtracks quickly and says, "Ouch- okay, and my ribs."

"Probably from when they threw you down the stairs," Erica cuts in as she massages her healing wrists.

"They threw you down the stairs?" I question as my eyes well with frightened tears.

"I'm alright," Stiles reassures me with a grimacing smile.

I nod even though I can tell he is very far from "alright" before addressing the werewolves before me.

"You've got to get out of here," I say. "Gerard won't be too happy when he sees I helped you escape. Go to wherever you've been all week and stay there until Derek comes for you."

"How will he know where we are?" Boyd questions.

"I'll tell him," I promise with a smile. "But before that you guys have to help me get Stiles to the car."

"Anything," Boyd replies gratefully as he reaches out to sling Stiles' arm over his shoulder.

As the boys, Erica, and I sneak quietly out of the house I'm surprised when the blonde werewolf grabs my arm midway down the road.

"I'm sorry for what I said," she apologizes. "You're not weak."

"I know," I smile as Boyd lays Stiles across Lydia's back seat, "but thanks."

Erica gives me one of the quiet smiles; the ones she used to wear before she became Werewolf Barbie, and in that moment I grow hopeful that whatever damage our friendship had suffered we'd make it through.

"Stay safe," I say while entering Lydia's Prius once more.

"You too," Boyd replies just before he and Erica disappear.

As I reach down for my discarded cellphone Lydia eyes Stiles with concern.

"Is he okay?" she questions as I dial Mr. Stilinski's phone number.

"He will be," I reply before the sheriff picks up. "Hi Mr. Stilinski, I found Stiles. He was a few blocks away- some of the other team's lacrosse players were mad because they lost the match and… well, it isn't pretty but he'll be fine. Don't worry, sheriff, I'll get him home safely. Just take out some frozen veggies and peroxide. Yeah, peas are fine. It's no problem, sheriff. Yeah… yeah, I'm glad he's okay too. I'll see you soon."

XXX

"Vanessa," Lydia hisses after I help Stiles into the Jeep's passenger's seat.

"What?" I sigh while running a hand down my tired face.

"You promised me we'd get to talk," the redhead replies.

"I know," I say, "and I'm sorry but right now Stiles takes priority-"

"Well it's nice that you have a boyfriend to take care of, Nessa, but in case you haven't noticed mine's dead!" Lydia roars, venom obvious in her tone.

My heart clenches in sympathy as I watch my good friend crumple before me, and after a moment I pull her into a comforting embrace; whispering "I wouldn't be so sure about that," into her ear.

"What do you mean?" Lydia questions as we separate; hope clear in her eyes.

"I mean that I don't think this is permanent," I answer while peeking over my shoulder to make sure Stiles is alright. "That Gerard will need Jackson again, so Jackson will come-for a lack of a better term- _come back to life._"

She gulps before replying, "Do you really think so?"

"Lydia," I begin while fixing her with a strong stare, "I'm sure of it. Gerard is _nothing_ without his pawns. He needs Jackson alive; tonight was just a power-play. Don't worry, okay? We'll figure this out."

"Okay," Lydia nods. "I-I'll talk to you later."

"Later," I echo with a nod before climbing into the Jeep's driver's side; closing the door beside me and shutting Lydia out.

As the car's engine purred to life and Lydia entered her own vehicle, Stiles questions if I really believed what I just said.

"Yes," I answered with a nod. "This isn't over, Stiles- far from it. Now let's get you home. The sheriff's worried sick."

My words proved to be even truer than I'd even imagined. When I helped Stiles walk into his room (despite his insistence that he didn't need assistance) Mr. Stilinski looked both furious and near to tears.

"Dad," Stile began as he pulled away from my grip, "it's not that bad."

"Who did this?" the sheriff demanded as he reached out for Stiles' injured cheek.

I stepped back into the hall; not wanting to intrude on their family moment before heading back downstairs for the peroxide, gauze, and frozen peas Mr. Stilinski had laid out on the kitchen counter. When I returned to my boyfriend's room the two men I'd left there were embracing in a way I hadn't seen since Amelia's funeral. It brought a lump to my throat because it wasn't until that moment did I realize just how scared Sheriff Stilinski had been. He'd lost his wife, and I knew his biggest fear was losing his son.

"I'll let you get to it," Mr. Stilinski addressed me after pulling away from his son with an embarrassed clear of his throat.

"This is going to sting," I inform Stiles while laying the objects in hand out on his desk.

The sheriff exits the room, surprisingly shutting the bedroom door behind him, as I push Stiles down onto his desk chair. As I dabbed his scraped cheek and split lip I tried my hardest to ignore both the trembling of my hands and Stiles' hisses of pain.

"I'm sorry," I whispered after a particularly bad cringe.

"It's okay," he sighs in response as I throw the bloodied cotton down into the trashcan at my feet. "Thanks."

I have to clear my suddenly pained throat before I can reply.

"It- it's okay," I say whilst trying to repress my sudden urge to cry.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

As I press the cold peas to his cheek I look pointedly at their packaging; trying my best to avoid Stiles' probing eyes. I can feel my whole body shake with suppressed nerves and fear, and I silently will the horrible feeling away to no avail.

_Dammit, dammit, dammit!_

"Vanessa," Stiles whispers gently as his hand reaches up to lay over my own.

"Don't," I snap; my tone pitched and eyes clenching shut.

"Vanessa calm down," he soothes while forcing my hand to pull away from his cheek and drop the frozen food back onto the wooden table beside us. "I'm _fine-_"

"You're _not_ fine!" I shout as my bloodshot eyes snap open; finally meeting his. "You've got a black eye, split lip, and a hole in your shoulder! In what world does not constitute as fine?"

Stiles gives an amused grin before joking, "In our world."

My bottom lip trembles despite his attempts to cheer me up, and I stumble backwards and wipe frantically at my eyes; trying to rid them of the overwhelming moisture.

"Vanessa-" Stiles begins once more desperately as one of hands reach out for my shirt; tugging me closer so I can't get away.

"Jackson died tonight," I interrupt with a sob muffled by my hands. "I was helping my mom preform CPR and then suddenly the sheriff is screaming that you've gone missing."

"Oh,_ Ness_," he whispers brokenly while getting to his feet so he can pull me into a comforting hug.

"I was so scared," I cry while burying my face in his chest; desperate to be close to him. "I thought that maybe- maybe Gerard had- that he'd-"

"I made a promise I'd never leave you, remember?" Stiles questions as his hands drag up and down my back in a soothing manner. "I'm right here, Vanessa. I'm alright, you _saved me_ for crying out loud, and I'm right here. It's alright, Nessa. I love you. It's _alright_."

"I love you too," I respond.

And then I kiss him, _hard._


	62. Chapter 59

**I seriously can't help but crank these chapters out. It's so surreal to think this is the end of Season Two and that, from next chapter on State Of Grace will be all of my original work. If you guys have any pointers, tips, or words of encouragement I'd be super thankful. Going completely AU is really nerve-wracking, especially since I'm continuing on a very good show. Leave reviews about what you thought of this post, and DFTBA!**

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

I didn't know how it happened exactly but one second I was crying and the next I was falling back on Stiles' bed; pulling him down with me. Only a few moments passed before my scarf and shirt were discarded; one of Stiles' two tops promptly following. Tears were no longer in my eyes as I looked up to my boyfriend's ceiling as he left trails of open-mouth kisses down the side of my neck. The faint bruises there tingled whenever his lips brushed them as I scratched at the prickly hair atop his head lightly.

When Stiles' mouth met mine once more I realized that this felt very different than the night of my birthday. These kisses were more urgent, our groping more gentle, and clothes were _actually_ removed. But the most important difference was… this time we wouldn't be interrupted.

I reached for the hem of Stiles' last shirt and pulled upwards. Soon skin was on skin and I swear the room was on fire. My breaths were gasps and Stiles' lips never left my body- not _once_- but then… then three sharp knocks sounded at his bedroom door; breaking the spell my hormonal teenage brain had cast me under just as the wooden door burst open.

I let out an involuntary shriek and jumped into the small space in between the side of Stiles' bed and the wall beside it.

"This isn't what it looks like!" I protest in mortification while ducking even further down in hopes Mr. Stilinski doesn't get a flash of something it'd be illegal for him to see. Well, I was wearing a bra but _still_.

"Oh," a feminine tone began; catching me by surprise, "I think this is _exactly_ what it looks like."

I peaked over Stiles' navy comforter with my eyes wide and jaw dropped to see Lydia smirking merrily from my boyfriend's doorway; her arms crossed and eyes sparkling.

"Cute bra," she winks as I stand up fully; scowl on my lips and stain on my cheeks.

"_Lydia Genevieve Martin_," I hiss while grabbing for my discarded shirt, "what are you _doing _here?"

"Apparently interrupting," she replies as her smirk widens. "Congrats by the way; I knew you had it in you."

"Lydia!" I snap while angrily pulling my shirt back over my head.

"Oh, watch out Stilinski," the strawberry blonde warns, "sexually frustrated Vanessa sure is scary."

"You haven't seen scary," I threaten before glancing over at Stiles with heated cheeks. "Put your shirt on," I order while throwing said cloth his way.

"Yeah," Lydia teases, "you're distracting Vanessa."

"Was there a reason you came here?" I ask with an exasperated sigh while pulling my hair out from underneath my cotton scarf.

At my question her smirk fades, and the air of the room instantly changes.

"Hey," I whisper softly while approaching my suddenly silent friend, "what's wrong?"

Lydia inhales shakily before replying, "They won't let me see him."

"See who?" Stiles questions in confusion as he pulls his t-shirt back on.

"Jackson," I answer before turning to Lydia once more. "Dee, why do you need to see him?"

"I need to-to return something," Lydia stutters as her hands take hold of one of her many necklaces. "I promised I would give it back."

I felt my face physically soften at her words. The key; it had to be the key. God, just a few months ago he had given it to her and now…

"He kept _asking_ for it back," she pushes as a few tears fall from her eyes.

Stiles' phone suddenly buzzes, and at my glare he immediately grabs for the vibrating device.

"Uh," he stutters after reading whatever text he'd received, "you guys are gonna want to know about this."

"What?" Lydia questions with a sniffle as she wipes at her wayward tears. "Is it about Jackson?"

"Yeah," I answer as I'm passed Stiles' phone. "But I don't think it's good news… per say."

I pass over the phone and watch as Lydia's eyes scan the phone's screen before she looks up to me with palpable urgency.

"What does that mean, exactly?" she questions.

"It means," I frown while looking over to Stiles, "we've got to head over to my house. I mean it's not like I have an arsenal or anything, but I have enough-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Stiles interrupts, "no way. We're not going near this," he points to the photo attachment my brother had sent over, "with a ten foot pole."

I bristle immediately at his demanding tone and meet his hard stare with one of my own.

"Maybe you aren't," I begin with a scowl, "but I am."

"Vanessa _no_," he orders. "This is getting way too dangerous for us- we both found that out tonight-"

"The only thing I found out tonight was that Gerard is desperate to get through to us any way he can," I cut in. "I, for one, won't let him. If you want to stay home that's fine, Stiles. But I won't go down without a fight."

Lydia glances between us nervously; obviously concerned by the dangerous tone this conversation had picked up somewhere along the way.

"No, Vanessa!" Stiles shouts. "I'm not letting you go on another one of your stupid kamikaze missions- _no way!_"

"Well I guess it's a good thing I'm not asking permission," I sneer before grabbing Lydia by the upper arm and dragging her out into the hall. "C'mon Lydia, I guess we'll have to do this ourselves."

"Wh-where are we going?" Lydia stutters as we approach her parked car.

"First," I begin, "my house. I'm not all that good with weapons but what I can use are better than nothing."

"You think we'll have to fight?" she questions as I shift her Prius into gear.

"I'd rather be safe than dead," I reply as we ride away; me using much more speed than necessary. "Lydia call my brother and put it on speaker."

"Okay," she nods as I make a left onto Jeoffry Avenue.

I hear a few rings before my twin answers with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Scott, where are you?" I demand.

"On our way to the abandoned industrial buildings," he answers. "Why, are you and Stiles on your way?"

"I'm on my way," I confirm vaguely; not confirming nor denying if my boyfriend is with me. "Stay safe."

"You too," Scott replies. "See you soon."

"Yeah," I mumble as Lydia clicks my cellphone off, "soon."

XXX

"There's a blue duffle bag at the bottom of my mother's closet," I say while strapping on the stake propeller I kept in my desk's top drawer.

"Okay," Lydia nods before briskly exiting my room in search of the blue bag I'd sent her for.

With a sigh I grabbed my headed Wolfsbane laced stake out from in between my mattresses and loaded it into the miniature crossbow attached to my wrist. Once in place I pulled my scarf over my head and tossed it to the floor of my closet before grabbing an elastic to tie my hair up with.

"Here," Lydia offered as she dragged the large duffle into my bedroom with a huff of exertion. "What do you have in there; rocks?"

I grinned and picked the bag up and onto my bed with the help of Lydia before unzipping it; revealing many different knifes, holders, stakes, syringes, vials of Mountain Ash, and even one shotgun.

"Here," I offer while passing over one of my smaller hunting knifes. "Take it just in case."

I took out a much larger one for myself before finding a pair of holders we could strap around our thighs. While I attached the weapon with ease Lydia needed assistance. After her knife was put in place I grabbed for a leather belt equipped with holders for Wolfsbane syringes. I wasn't sure if the plant was harmful to Kanimas but I figured the extra precaution wouldn't hurt. I finished by sticking two smaller stakes into the sides of my boots before standing up with a pleased nod.

"Okay, this is as good as we're gonna get," I announce. "Lydia, if things get rough get back to your car and lock the doors, okay? I've only had a little bit of training, so what I can do barely covers my own back let alone someone else's."

"That's okay," a familiar voice suddenly calls out from my bedroom doorway, "_I've_ got your back, anyways."

"Stiles," I sigh with a relieved grin while turning towards the new arrival. "Pulled your head out of your ass, huh?"

"My dad helped," he shrugs in response with a smile of his own.

"Here," I say while offering my largest blade and its holder. "Be careful with it."

"I will," Stiles promises with a nod. "Now let's get going; I left the Jeep running."

XXX

"Hold on tight," Stiles grins as he pushes even harder down on the Jeep's gas pedal; propelling us even faster to the industrial building before us.

"Oh god," I mumble as my right hand clutches Lydia's left, "we're gonna die."

_**Clang!**_

I suppress the scream bubbling at my lips as we crash through the building's feeble door before running head-first into Jackson's transformed body.

I look over to Stiles wide-eyed to see him hyperventilating with his face scrunched into a grimace.

"Did I get him?" he questions while looking over to my brother, who is suddenly smiling.

I suddenly snort with laughter only to scream when the Kanima, who I assumed was unconscious, jumped onto the hood of Stiles' car. My shriek chorused with Lydia's and Stiles' as we all ran out of the vehicle we'd just ran in.

"Jackson?" Lydia questions as fearful tears fall from her light eyes.

"Lydia!" I shout while reaching for my hunting knife only to be held back by my brother.

As I struggle against Scott's hold I watch with wide eyes as my strawberry blonde friend holds Jackson's house key up to the monster's face. My body stills when Jackson halts his attack and stares at the displayed object with recognition.

We all watch with baited breath as the Kanima morphs back into Jackson while he takes the key from her hands; surprisingly careful with his claws.

"It's working," I whisper in shock as my body slacks with utter surprise.

Jackson backs away a few steps before meeting eyes with Derek and giving a miniscule nod. A gasp tore through my throat when not only Derek lunged out to stab Jackson with his claws but also, of all people, _Peter_. At the sight of my brother's old alpha my weakened knees grew strength, and I propelled myself over to Stiles; standing in front of him tensely while clutching the hunting knife at my thigh.

Lydia's ex fell to the floor when both Hale werewolves stepped back, but my childhood friend caught him before he hit the floor. Whatever had been left of Jackson's transformation disappeared altogether as he questioned softly if Lydia still loved him.

"I do," she whispered in a cracking voice as her hands caressed his relieved face. "I do still love you."

A knot formed in my throat when Jackson's body went limp, and with heartbroken sobs Lydia lowered him back onto the floor as his eyes closed. I wanted to reach out and comfort her but my fear of Peter being anywhere near Stiles (alive, dead, or hallucination) kept me from doing so. I had to protect him. I had to keep him safe.

"Where's Gerard?" Allison questioned suddenly.

All eyes snap towards a puddle of pungent, black liquid before her father replies, "He couldn't have gotten far."

While the others glance around for any sight of the eldest Argent I watch Lydia stand with her face buried in her hands; a lone sob breaking through. She turns to me with a look of utter despair on her painted face, and my body reacts instinctually when I step forwards- only to halt at the sight of Jackson's fingers/claws scratching against the cement floor.

Lydia spun quickly on her heel at the sound of scraping nails and we all watched as his puncture wounds quickly healed. When Jackson's eyes opened they were a familiar electric blue- the same color Derek Hale's had once been. While Lydia and Jackson embraced I realized with immense happiness that Jackson had become a werewolf. He wasn't dead, or a Kanima, or even a regular boy. Instead he finally, _finally_ got what he wanted.

Lycanthropy.

I fell to the floor with a combination of laughter and sobbing. Happy tears fell from my eyes, and I realized not even Peter Hale's presence could have ruined this moment.

"It worked," I whisper as Stiles knelt beside me; a concerned look overtaking his face. When his eyes flicker to my large grin he matches it with one of his own.

"It worked," he echoes with a nod before pulling me to my feet. "C'mon," he says, "let's get you home."

**Two Weeks Later**

We pulled up into the school's vacant lacrosse field with the Jeep's windows down. Scott was seated at my right, Stiles at my left, and the trunk filled with their various lacrosse gear and my bag of weapons.

"Just like old times, huh?" I question with a smile as we unload out duffels and trudge deeper into the field.

"Yeah," Scott nods as he walks towards the Home team's designated goalie. "Exactly like old times, actually."

"What do you mean?" Stiles questions as I plop my gear onto a metal bench; smiling at the sound of its clang.

"I'm right back where I started," my twin announces while I pull out the small crossbow Chris had gifted me randomly last Tuesday. "No lacrosse, no popularity, no girlfriend- _nothing_."

"You still have us," I defend; recalling the memory of my brother informing me Allison and he had broken up.

"Yeah," Scott nods, "but I had you guys before."

Stiles rolls his eyes but a grin dances at the corner of his lips. "Exactly," he snarks, "so life fulfilled. Now shut up and help me make co-captain like you promised."

"Be quick about it, though," I call out as I go through a few basic movements. "We've got a date to get to."

"The big six months," my twin whistles with an impressed raise of his brows. "Where are you guys going, anyway?"

Stiles and I share a look and smile before he replies, "The lake."

"Why?" Scott frowns; obviously finding our venue lackluster.

"Sentimental value," I answer with a roll of my eyes. "Now shut up and practice."

"And no wolf powers!" Stiles adds as he begins to cradle the lacrosse ball in his net.

"Oh shut up and take the shot," Scott teases as he readies himself.

When Stiles whips the ball forward only for it to be stopped I throw my head back in laughter as he shouts, "I said no wolf powers!"


End file.
